


In The Clouds

by Deathclaw



Category: Fallout (Video Games), Fallout 4
Genre: Action/Adventure, Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, F/M, Love Triangles, Mutants, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Sexual Content, Sexual Tension, Slow Build, Slow Burn, Slow Romance, Trauma, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-14
Updated: 2019-01-21
Packaged: 2019-07-12 02:15:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 27,663
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15985448
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Deathclaw/pseuds/Deathclaw
Summary: A new threat is rearing its ugly head in the Commonwealth- a horrific danger that could overshadow even the Institute itself. Evelyn must work with both her loyal Minutemen and the stubborn Brotherhood of Steel if she wants to take on this new adversary, but it will push her to the limits of both her body and mind. Evelyn will rely on her trusted companions now more than ever, and even begins to discover feelings that she never thought she would experience again.[First Fallout fic- getting the hang of things, but having fun! Lots of world building in this one- new people, creatures, and places]





	1. Fear

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> New story- I'm super excited to work on this one, and I have a lot of ideas for it. I hope you like it!
> 
> REWRITTEN 4/8/19 - changed some details, but the main part of the story is the same!

Sirens blared in every hallway, filling the corridors with harsh red light and screeching. Broken glass glittered in the light like fresh snowflakes across the floor, mixed with drops of dark blood that it had drawn from oblivious victims, so eager in their haste that they failed to notice the shattered pieces underfoot. The hissing of steam from a burst pipe combined with the scream of the siren, making it near impossible to hear anything around the corner.

There was a man sprinting down one of the hallways. His feet slipped in the blood that dripped from his lab coat, splattering a trail behind him as he ran. He passed some of his colleagues as he turned down another hallway. One had been dragged halfway into an observation room through the window, shredded body dangling lifelessly. Another was still alive, but the situation had broken him; he crouched on the floor, arms wrapped up around his head, silent tears sliding from wide eyes to join the visceral mess on the floor.

The scientist did not slow down. There was nothing he could do for the others; he just had to run, and then maybe he could make it, maybe he could stop any more of those things from escaping.

There was an animalistic scream ahead. A guttural growling, rising up to a shriek and ending in a crack as its target was inevitably slammed into a wall. His steps faltered, eyes darting wildly around like a cornered beast. But there were no other ways out of Section 6.

He eased his way around the corner and dared a look. One of the creatures was crouched in the hallway ahead, leaned over the still body of Dr. Norman and tearing away generous mouthfuls to swallow whole. The thing was grotesque, with a great lumbering body not unlike a tiger, but devoid of hair besides a few spare clumps along its spine. It had an extra pair of forelegs, and all of its legs were thick and corded with muscle, ending in wicked curving claws. Its head was thick and flattened along the top, making for an efficient battering ram as evidenced by Dr. Norman’s caved in chest. Overgrown, rodent-like teeth sliced away at flesh, spilling even more blood across the floor.

God, the horrors that had come to life here. In that singular moment, the scientist came to regret every choice that brought him to this place.

Round black eyes suddenly lifted up to gaze at him. Every muscle in the man’s body tensed, ready to flee back the way he had come, if only to give himself a few extra minutes of life. But then a guttural snarl crackled in the hallway behind him, and he twisted his head enough to see one creeping towards him, spindly tail lashing like a slow whip as it closed in.

It was then that he remembered: these ones hunted in packs.

* * *

Boots scraped over the cracked pavement of the road as Evelyn trudged into Sanctuary, squinting against the day’s bright sunlight to peer ahead at the figures up the street. She could feel sweat trickling down between her shoulder blades and adhering her undershirt to her skin, and she wanted nothing more than a bottle of water to soothe her parched throat. Beside her, Dogmeat trotted along at a leisurely pace, tongue lolling and tail wagging as he caught sight of the settlement’s residents. With a lunge, the dog took off towards them in a blur of tan and black, loud barking heralding their arrival to anyone within earshot.

Heads turned their way, and several people broke away from their activities to rush Evelyn, shouts of greeting filling the air. Evelyn forced a weary smile onto her face, waving a hand to return the greeting.

“General, glad to see you back!” Preston was the first person to reach her, rubbing a hand over Dogmeat’s head and tousling his ears while he spoke. “We heard you responded to the distress call from Greentop Nursery. Is everything okay?”

Evelyn nodded silently to him, even though she knew the blood spattered on her skin and the dirt smears on her clothing would suggest things were _not_ so okay. “Just some raider trouble. They won’t be bothering the nursery again,” she said coldly, pushing strands of auburn hair back from her sweaty face. Preston looked like he was about to say something, but she didn’t really want to go through a debriefing right now, so she latched onto the grinning ghoul approaching them instead.

“I thought you’d still be in Goodneighbor,” Evelyn remarked, accepting a hug from Hancock. She embraced him back with one arm; the other was still clutching her rifle, letting it dangle towards the ground.

“You know me. I don’t stay long- just enough to remind them who’s still in charge,” Hancock winked at her playfully, and Evelyn felt an actual smile tugging at her lips. “Besides, who else would keep this place lively without me here?” Evelyn snorted in amusement at that, the smile spreading across her face.

“Yeah, cause this place is a real graveyard without you around,” she retorted sarcastically, shrugging her pack off of her shoulder and letting it slide down her arm so she could wrap her hand around the strap. Exhaustion was starting to hit her all at once now, making her limbs feel heavy and her eyelids droop. She needed to get out of the heat and away from all the eyes on her. “I’m going to head to my room and clean up. See you boys for dinner, alright?”

Evelyn continued up the street, leaving Dogmeat to frolic with the settlers. The dog had a tendency to find her wherever she went; he would wander after her sooner or later. Her eyes peered up at the little house in front of her as she approached it, and she swallowed past the familiar lump in her throat as she trudged up to the front door. Eight months out of the vault, and being back at her pre-war house still made her heart feel heavy. She originally had refused to even return to it, but as Sanctuary grew into a true settlement, the need for more space drove her to give up her old bed and move back here. Home.

Not that it was home anymore. After everything that had happened, this place just felt cold and sad. Sort of how she felt, too.

She eased the front door shut behind her, leaving it open a crack for Dogmeat to nose his way in later. She found her feet carrying her to the one room in the house she still hadn’t touched: Shaun’s room.

The room was in disarray, paint peeling from the walls and debris littering the floor, but the wooden crib still sat on the other side of the room. Shaun’s little mobile still dangled above it, only now it was missing a few of its pieces. Evelyn’s hand lingered on the doorframe beside where she stood, chest feeling tight.

The image of Shaun- Father now, apparently- flashed into her mind. It had only been two weeks ago that she had made it to the Institute to discover the truth about what had become of her baby boy. She had avoided Sanctuary since then, not wanting to be anywhere near her house or that awful vault. The first few days had been spent holed up in Diamond City, cycling between tears and anger, before she threw herself into assisting her settlements as a distraction.

Now, she just felt numb.

Abruptly, she shoved herself away from what was left of Shaun’s room, instead slipping into the master bedroom that she had rearranged to fit what she liked. And to get rid of the ghost of her old life.

She tugged the door shut behind her until she heard it click, tossing her pack onto the small workbench in the corner where it landed with a metallic clunk. Her eyes fell onto the little rusted mirror she had propped up in the corner of the bench, frowning slightly at herself. Dried blood crusted her skin and clothes in flaking blotches courtesy of the raiders who had got up close and personal with her during the fight this morning. A fresh cut marred her jawbone, stretching up across the lower part of her left cheek. Evelyn winced. She hoped that it wouldn’t turn into a scar. After using a damp cloth to clean the wound and peeling off the pieces of leather armor that clung to her body, she turned to study the room.

Kneeling at the trunk in the corner of her room, she plucked a bottle of purified water from the corner where she stashed her rations. The feeling of water wetting her dry mouth and running down her throat was heavenly, and she drank half of the bottle in just a few greedy gulps. She slid down to the ground, leaning her back against the wall with a heavy sigh and running a hand through her filthy hair. Using her bottle, she splashed some water onto a piece of cloth and went to work scrubbing blood and grime from her face, wincing whenever she touched at the wound there.

Today had not gone as planned. Evelyn had been up before the sun and set out for The Slog to help them with their settlement defensive systems. She had been in the middle of greasing up turret pieces when the distress call had come in from Greentop Nursery: raiders were moving in for an attack. So she had thrown her supplies back into her pack and sprinted the entire way there with Dogmeat hot on her heels. The raiders had come in larger numbers than usual, and it had been an effort to take them down. Several had come in for close combat, swinging machetes and crowbars or just opting to throw punches instead. It had been a rough fight, and she knew she would have bruises showing up soon enough. But at least the settlers were safe.

Evelyn dropped the damp cloth in her hand, running hands through her grimy hair with a heavy sigh. She almost wished she had headed to the Prydwen instead of Sanctuary; as much as she wanted to avoid Maxson, she desperately wanted a hot shower right now.

Speaking of things she wanted right now… Her eyes drifted to the trunk pushed up against the wall, still propped open and practically inviting her in. Unable to resist the call, she leaned up and stretched an arm out, feeling around until her fingers brushed glass. She caught ahold of it, tugging a bottle free. She used her teeth to pull the cork out before pushing it against her lips, savoring the cool touch of glass and the taste of whiskey she inhaled. She tilted her head back, letting its sharp touch bite into her throat. She relished it.

It was a bad habit, and she was well aware of it. But drowning her thoughts in a bottle was the only way she could dull the ache of her past. And more often than not, it was the only way she could keep herself asleep through the night.

Hours passed, and Evelyn spent them dumping more whiskey and beer into her system. The sun had mostly set, the last few rays peeking over the horizon to bleed deep oranges and purples across the night sky. Evelyn peered out the window on the other side of her room, grinning sleepily at the sight of the few stars already visible. The alcohol tingled, spreading its warm fingers through her arms and legs, wrapping around her head like a snake. A content sigh slid past her lips, and she let her head roll back against the wall behind her.

She must have dozed off like that, because the next thing she could remember was jolting awake at the sound of footsteps approaching in the hallway. Tired and fuzzy from alcohol, she reacted instinctively, scrambling for her pistol and using the wall to push herself up on unsteady feet.

The door opened gently, and Evelyn felt her tense muscles relax when she recognized MacCready. He paused in the doorway, a bowl of food in one hand, and glanced down at the pistol in her hand for a moment before shooting a questioning look at her.

“Sorry,” Evelyn apologized, setting the pistol aside on her workbench. “Force of habit,” she did her best not to slur her words. She had probably gone a little overboard on the drinking again. Her eyes dropped to the bowl in his hand, a few wafts of steam drifting up from it. “That for me?”

“Yeah,” MacCready said, though he was no longer looking at her, eyes roving around the room to take in the collection of empty bottles she had left in her wake. He fixed a disapproving stare on her. “Looks like you need it, too. You missed dinner.”

Evelyn frowned back at him, accepting the bowl he offered. “Sorry. Fell asleep,” she said simply, stirring the bent spoon through the stew to watch pieces of vegetables and radstag meat swirl around the bowl instead of meeting his gaze. She already knew that her excessive drinking worried her friends sometimes, but she wasn’t quite willing to give it up. Besides, she never drank too much out on the road; she saved it for the days when she was safe inside a settlement and could get herself well and truly inebriated in privacy.

MacCready leaned on the doorframe, tucking his hands into the pockets of his worn duster coat that he insisted on wearing everywhere. “You know, you don’t have to stay in this house,” he remarked. “We’d all understand if you’d rather trade for another room.” He knew her story, of course- and he knew what kind of bad memories this place carried.

She raised her eyes finally, feeling a little relieved that he wasn’t going to give her a lecture on her drinking habits like Preston had tried to do a few weeks ago. “This is my house,” she shrugged her shoulders, finally scooping a mouthful of stew into her mouth. It wasn’t the greatest tasting thing in the world, but it was hot and fresh, so it would do. “I’m still not used to it, that’s all. It’s got bad memories, but there are good ones here, too. Things I want to remember.”

It wasn’t a lie. She _did_ want to remember it, even if it hurt her more deeply than any gunshot could. She remembered painting this room, shoulder-to-shoulder with Nate, listening to the radio play while sunlight streamed through the windows to light up their workspace. She remembered sitting in the backyard with a newborn Shaun, feet stretched out in the prickly grass while she sang soft lullabies to her baby and Nate cooked hotdogs on the grill.

She remembered the sirens and the screaming of their neighbors as she clung to Nate’s hand and they rushed from the house, stumbling and confused as they ran for the vault on the hill.

“Eve?” She started, glancing back at MacCready again. He was frowning slightly, and it occurred to her that he must have said something to her.

“Sorry,” she apologized for the third time that night, blinking the wetness from her eyes. She didn’t like crying in front of anyone. She didn’t like feeling vulnerable- never again. “Too tired and too much to drink.” She forced an apologetic smile on her face.

MacCready grunted in agreement, straightening up. “Well, you ought to finish that bowl then. I’ll let the others know you’re turning in for the night.”

“Thanks, Mac,” Evelyn said. “Leave the door cracked for Dogmeat, will you?”

MacCready nodded. “Goodnight, Eve.” With that, he vanished from the doorway, and she listened until his steps had retreated through the front door before sitting down heavily on the edge of her bed.

Wetness still pricked at her eyes, and she ran the backs of her hands over them, feeling a spark of frustration in her chest. Tears were useless, and she hated how prone she was to spilling them. Choosing to focus on something else, she spooned more stew into her mouth and kept going until she had almost emptied the bowl. She wasn’t particularly hungry, but going to bed on a stomach full of whiskey alone wasn’t a good idea.

Finally deciding she ought to get some real sleep, she kicked off her combat boots, slid her flannel and jeans off, and stretched out on her flimsy mattress in nothing more than her undershirt and underwear. It was too hot to wear anything else to bed around here most days.

She was drifting in and out of consciousness when she heard nails clicking on hardwood, and she rolled over to smile at the muzzle nudging the door open. “C’mere, boy,” she called softly.

Dogmeat weaseled his way into the room and reached her bed in two bounds, hopping up beside her and immediately flopping onto his belly. Dogmeat was her most loyal friend- and also the best body pillow she could ask for in the wasteland.

Evelyn wrapped her arms around his furry neck and fell asleep.

* * *

 

Evelyn’s eyes cracked open slowly, squinting against the milky morning sunlight trickling in through her window. She turned her head slightly and winced immediately at the throbbing headache that greeted her. A consequence of her overindulgence last night. Dogmeat raised his head and spread his jaws in a wide, whiny yawn, blinking at her sleepily.

She pushed herself upright, gritting her teeth against the surge of pain and rubbing crust from her eyes. Deep breaths seemed to help, letting cool, fresh air, rush into her lungs and ease the burn in her head.

And yet, the throbbing was still there. No- not throbbing. Knocking? Someone was at her door. She slid out of her bed, tugging on a loose pair of shorts before padding to the door. She swung it open to behold Preston.

“General!” He straightened up, nodding his head once in greeting, but Evelyn could tell something was wrong by the concerned look on his face. “Sorry to wake you, but we need your help. A guard was killed last night.”

It was like a bucket of cold water was dumped over her head. Evelyn was fully awake now, and the pulsing pain in her skull took a backseat to the situation before her. “Who? And what happened?”

Preston’s eyes were sad. “It was Mason. And we’re not quite sure. Nick’s out there looking the scene over right now, but… it’s like nothing we’ve ever seen before, General,” he said. There was a hint of nervousness in his voice, and that worried her.

“Give me five minutes, I’ll be right there,” Evelyn promised. Preston nodded, turning to head back downstairs. Evelyn shut the door, leaning her forehead against it heavily for a moment. Deep breaths.

Was this her fault? Had she been so distracted getting drunk last night that she forgot to look over Sanctuary’s defenses? Mason had been young and strong- not much older than her. What had killed him before he could even call the alarm?

A surge of rage suddenly smothered her confusion and grief. What coward dared to creep up on a Minutemen stronghold and take a man’s life? There would be hell to pay.

Evelyn passed up the clothes from yesterday, instead rifling through her trunk for a loose shirt to slip on over her tank top and a pair of relatively clean jeans. She would forgo the armor; she didn’t usually need it in Sanctuary, though this incident may prove otherwise. Stuffing her feet in her combat boots, she snatched up her pack and rifle lastly before rushing out the door.

She almost toppled over Dogmeat as he rushed out behind her, the throbbing in her head seeming to increase tenfold when she tried to look down. She clenched her jaw and kept moving. Maybe later she would seek out Curie for something to help with her hangover, but there was more important business to tend to now.

Preston hadn’t specified where Mason’s body was, but it was easy enough to find him. A small crowd lingered nearby, giving a wide berth to what they were looking at. It was just past the bridge into town, but a little further from the road as if Mason had wandered towards the stream… or been dragged.

Evelyn bee-lined towards them, eyes narrowed against the light of the rising sun. When the settlers noticed her, they parted to allow her into the crowd. They all shared the same nervous expressions. Someone in the crowd was weeping loudly, and Evelyn remembered that he’d come to Sanctuary with a girlfriend.

Evelyn walked slowly to the body. Nick was knelt beside Mason, studying his slack face with a deep frown. His yellow eyes slid up to Evelyn as she approached.

Mason had been ripped apart; one look at Evelyn was starting to think this wasn’t another human after all. His ribcage had been wrenched apart, his body split open from sternum to lower abdomen, organs either shredded or missing. His lower legs looked like they’d been crushed by a boulder; it was bad enough that couldn’t look at them for too long. One of his arms was partially severed, and deep gouges marred the skin around the wound. The other arm was missing several large chunks, as well as the shoulders, neck, and thighs. Surprisingly, his head was mostly unharmed- despite a dent in the back and side, probably from hitting the ground hard. The blood around his body had already begun drying, so she figured he must have been dead an hour at least.

“We should cover him up,” Evelyn stated quietly, focusing on Nick instead of the body. It was hard to look at; even for all the gore she had witnessed, seeing one of her own men split open and mangled was difficult. Her stomach was starting to churn again.

“Codsworth is getting a sheet for him,” Nick said, rising up to his feet and joining her at her side. He looked down at the body again, sighing and shaking his head. “It must have happened at least a few hours ago. Poor guy.”

Evelyn felt her fingers tighten around the handle of her rifle. “Do you know what might have done it? Yao guai? Deathclaw?”

Nick was shaking his head still. “Doesn’t fit the style. They don’t leave wounds like these- not that I’ve ever seen.” He raised a hand to prop under his chin, tilting his head slightly. “This doesn’t look like raider work, either, though.”

“And super mutants wouldn’t leave a body, either,” Evelyn murmured. “But maybe whoever left it is trying to scare us?” She glanced sideways at Nick for his opinion.

“Hmm. It’s a possibility,” he agreed. “These wounds are consistent with an animal attack, not weapons. The arm is a giveaway,” he explained, gesturing to the partially chewed off arm. Evelyn didn’t want to look at it for too long.

“Super mutants with mutant hounds, then,” she suggested. “Trying to terrorize us?”

“Or something we have yet to encounter,” Nick met her eyes, a touch of concern on his synthetic face.

Before she could respond, Codsworth hovered into view between the settlers, clutching a dark blue sheet in one robotic arm. “Ah, good morning, mum!” He said- his usual autopilot greeting. The blank faces that greeted him made him realize his mistake, and he shifted the sheet to another arm, puttering in place. “Terribly sorry, that is, mum. A tragedy,” he declared, extending the sheet to her.

Evelyn just nodded, accepting the sheet from him and looking to Nick. “Do you need any more time?”

Nick shook his head. “Go ahead. We can move him to the infirmary’s extra room for now. I need to look around the scene some more, though.”

Evelyn nodded again, then approached Mason’s body, whipping the sheet up in the air so it spread out to encompass him before letting it drift down over top of his prone form. Staring down at the covered body, she felt a thick lump of emotion form in her throat.

Hands laid on her shoulders, and she was gently turned around and pulled up against a warm body. It took her a moment to realize it was Cait, and she wrapped her arms around her briefly and inhaled a shuddering breath, glad for the support. Cait was usually a harsher person, but had a soft spot for Evelyn, and the two got along swimmingly. Cait didn’t say anything, but patted her back reassuringly.

“We’re gonna find out who did this,” a voice spoke furiously behind her, addressing the crowd of uncertain settlers still gathered. Evelyn recognized it as Hancock; he must have come over with Cait. “We got the Commonwealth’s best detective and our General here. And in the meantime, we’re gonna up the defenses around here.” It was a promise. Hancock’s voice held none of the usual charm and jest. He was angry.

Murmuring rippled over the small crowd, but the settlers seemed to take the cue and started shuffling off to their own tasks. Only a few remained, including Mason’s girlfriend who Evelyn remembered as Sandra. The young woman was on her knees beside the body now, shoulders shaking while she cried, while another young woman knelt beside her and tried to comfort her gently. Evelyn had to look away.

Another gentle hand on her back had her breaking away from Cait to meet Hancock’s eyes. Behind him, she could see Preston, MacCready, and Curie all looking on. Hancock put his hand on her shoulder, eyes soft.

“I know you’re already beating yourself up about this. Don’t,” he said sternly. He was starting to know her too well. “We’ll figure this out together.”

There were nods all around from her friends, and she felt a touch of her grief lift away. “Thanks,” she said, glancing sideways at Cait and smiling faintly at her in gratitude as well. Cait grinned broadly for her in return. She took a deep breath. Focus. Center herself. Ignore the headache. “While Nick is looking things over, I want to get started on new defenses. No one is going to feel safe until that happens.”

She turned her eyes to Preston. “Think you could get Sturges started on some more turrets? We’ll help gather some materials up for him.” Preston nodded in affirmation, and she looked to Hancock next. “Since you have experience with security, mind getting a new guard cycle started? No one on guard alone, and they stay within eyesight and earshot of each other at all times.”

Hancock dipped his head. “Done.”

Finally, Evelyn turned to Curie, tilting her head towards the body behind her. “Think you can set up a spot for him in the infirmary’s extra room for now?”

“Of course, mon ami,” Curie said, her voice heavy with sadness.

“Thank you all,” Evelyn let out a tired breath, managing a grateful smile. Hancock clapped her on the back once more before following Curie and Preston up the street.

Codsworth took the moment of silent to hover up beside Evelyn, looking about as ashamed as a robot could. “I’m so terribly sorry, mum!” He exclaimed. “I was so busy clearing out a room in the old Swanson house, I didn’t even realize what had happened until I found the poor gentleman this morning.”

Evelyn rested a soothing hand against his cool metal exterior. “It’s not your fault, Codsworth.” _It’s mine_. “I don’t think this was a normal attack.”

“Nope,” Cait agreed, crossing her arms. “I’ve never seen a body so rip-“

Evelyn shushed her with a hiss, tossing a look back at the mourning settles not far behind them. “Let’s leave them to their grieving,” she said quietly, heading up the street in the direction of the main buildings. Cait and MacCready fell into step after her, but Codsworth just floated off in Nick’s direction instead, probably to offer his assistance as he so often did.

Her headache was subsiding somewhat, at least, but it still sent throbs of pain through her head. Evelyn led the way to the building that served as Sanctuary’s excuse for a mess hall, situated on a cleared foundation beside the barracks. There were many settlers clustered inside already for breakfast hour, but the usual chatter was hushed today.

Evelyn gathered up some of the available food, piling it onto a plate and selecting a bottle of purified water before easing down onto an empty bench. Cait slid in a moment later on her left, and MacCready on her right. Her eyes slid sideways to MacCready, watching him from her peripherals. He had been strangely silent all morning; had seeing the body really gotten to him so much?

She stabbed some of her melon with a fork, nibbling at it slowly while she waited to see if her stomach would accept food or not. When it didn’t immediately flip over at the introduction of melon, she shoveled some more in.

She was going to figure this out. Hancock was right: Nick was the best detective in the Commonwealth. And she was the General of the Minutemen. She wasn’t going to let anyone get away with murdering her men, whether it be man, beast, or something in between.

And so, talking quietly with MacCready and Cait during breakfast, it was decided: they were going hunting.


	2. Animals

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Edited 4/8/19 - changed some details!

Evelyn found herself back in her room after breakfast, suiting up in her road leathers and securing her pieces of armor around her body.  Her headache was still a lingering annoyance at the back of her skull, but her determination and bloodlust was overriding it. Carefully, she picked through the weapons she had stored in her trunk, selecting her usual rifle as well as a laser pistol and a few frag grenades. She wasn’t quite sure what they were dealing with, but it was better to be prepared.

After a moment of hesitation, she pawed her other things aside to reveal a bundle wrapped in an old shirt. Her fingers unwrapped it quickly, cloth sliding away to reveal a small collection of, ahem, _enhancements_. She didn’t use drugs for recreation, but she wouldn’t lie- some of them came in handy during a fight. Evelyn studied them thoughtfully for a moment before selecting a vial of psycho and tucking it into her travel pack.

When she reemerged back onto the street, adjusting her slightly oversized army helmet, she say several of her companions were already ready and waiting. Hancock and Cait stood together, shouldering packs of their own and chatting. Preston was not far, talking to Sturges and gesturing at the turret that the mechanic was working on. MacCready was knelt beside Dogmeat, scratching at the canine’s ears and neck. A pair of Minutement also stood at attention near Preston- volunteers to help track the mystery monster. Only one person missing.

“Where’s Nick?” Evelyn asked as she strode to join the team. All eyes turned towards her, Dogmeat abandoning MacCready to bound eagerly up to her.

“Back over the bridge again,” Preston said, hefting his laser musket as he stepped away from Sturges and his work. “Said he’d join us when it was time.”

Evelyn nodded. “Alright.” Her eyes slid over the little group in front of her, everyone shifting on their feet and clutching their weapons. It seemed silly to drag so many people along for what she hoped was just a simple beast hunt, but none of them seemed willing to stay behind. “Let’s get going, then.”

She led the way towards the bridge, settlers peering at them from the edges of the street to watch the team as they set off on their hunt. Evelyn put on what she hoped was a strong face, raising her chin up a fraction as they approached the bridge. Nick was waiting for them just before it.

Evelyn slowed down as she approached him, yellow eyes boring into her own. Nick seemed just as determined as she felt. “Find anything?” She inquired.

“Not much,” Nick admitted. “The area around has some tracks, but they’re pretty scuffed up. I don’t think we can track it.” Now he tilted his head, eyes shifting down to Dogmeat, who stood loyally at Evelyn’s side. “But he might be able to.”

 _Of course_ , Evelyn thought. Dogmeat had managed to successfully track Kellogg. Tracking another murderous beast shouldn’t be so hard. The realization gave her fresh energy.

“Good idea. Lead the way, Nick,” Evelyn offered. Nick’s gaze slid over the team gathered behind her, and he nodded grimly.

“Alright everyone, last chance to stay here,” Nick warned them. “We don’t know what we’re dealing with, or what we might find.” Glances were passed around the crew, but no one backed down. Nick tilted his head towards the other end of the bridge. “Just be careful, then.”

There were murmurs of acknowledgement as Nick and Evelyn led the way to the spot where Mason had been killed- and subsequently dragged several steps away from the street, made obvious by the streaks of blood and furrows in the soil.

Nick picked his way around the biggest smear of dried blood. “There’s only a bit of a trail here, but it leads southeast.” He gestured with a hand to show how drops of blood and faint scuffs in the dirt led away from the scene of the kill.  “Try having Dogmeat pick it up where it fades.”

Evelyn nodded, stepping carefully around blood smears as Nick had done and following the trail of blood drops as they wound back and forth alongside the road. But the amount of blood she could see was tapering off rapidly, forcing her to pick a spot where some blood was streaked across the dry trunk of a tree. “Dogmeat, here boy,” she called softly.

Dogmeat’s head popped up from he had been sniffing around a few steps away, pacing slowly through the few scraggly trees and rocks here. He bounced in her direction, tail wagging in delight at having been summoned. Evelyn couldn’t help but smile at his infectious dog joy; despite how serious a situation was, Dogmeat could usually get a smile out of her.

“Here,” she commanded, pressing her palm flat against the tree next to the bloody marks. “Just like Kellogg, remember?” Dogmeat’s ears were perked forwards, eyes following her hand to the tree. His tail slowed down as a more focused demeanor took over, and he pressed his nose up against the tree beside her hand, inhaling rapidly as he snuffled over the sharp, metallic scent of Mason’s blood.

“Now follow,” Evelyn withdrew her hand, extending her arm in the general southeastern direction that the trail had been moving. “Find it, Dogmeat.”

Dogmeat took another moment to sniff at the trunk and then around its base, then trotted slowly forwards, nose moving back and forth between the air and the ground. Evelyn could tell he’d picked up the scent when his hackles started to stand up, and he snapped to attention with a bark. And then he was moving, leaping forwards eagerly to pursue the trail.

“Follow him!” Evelyn ordered, jumping to her feet and running after him. Dogmeat was moving fast, apparently excited by whatever he had caught a whiff of. “Dogmeat, slow down, boy!”

Her team was running to keep up with her as well, feet thumping and stumbling over the rocky earth. Evelyn frowned. This wasn’t going to work for a very stealthy approach. Dogmeat paused finally, quite a distance ahead, and turned his head back to stare in their direction as if to say _Hurry up!_

As they reached Concord, Dogmeat took a moment to sniff around again before veering sharply south, finally settling into a quick jog so his slow human followers could keep up. Evelyn and her team spent the next two hours following Dogmeat as he carved a winding trail through the wasteland, occasionally losing the trail and needing to double back or wander for a while to pick it up again. Eventually, Dogmeat was leading them towards Lexington, loping warily towards the Super Duper Mart on the outskirts. When he finally halted, hackles raised and body stiff as he stared into the building, Evelyn turned to the others gathering behind him.

“This place was crawling with ferals last time I passed through Lexington. Keep your eyes open,” she warned, trying not to raise her voice too much to alert anything that might be inside the building. Though, she figured the ferals weren’t going to be their biggest problem if their mysterious killer was in there as well.

“No one goes alone,” she added as everyone started to break apart, prowling towards the Super Duper Mart with purpose. She joined in, lifting her rifle to rest the butt against her shoulder and falling into step between MacCready and one of the Minutement. Fuck, what was his name again? She was an awful general to not even know everyone’s name. Preston usually did the recruiting.

The glass windows of the store had long since been shattered, shards still scattered across the pavement outside and tile inside. Evelyn swung herself through one of the wide windows, feet crunching quietly on glass as she landed on the other side. Her rifle was instantly up and ready again, eyes scanning for any sign of movement in the aisles.

Hancock, Nick, and Preston were creeping along the perimeter of the store, working towards the far side, so Evelyn figured she’d take this end. Cait and the other Minuteman were making their way down one of the aisles in the middle, sliding between crumbling shelves and vanishing from view. Dogmeat cleared the window behind Evelyn and paused, considering her for a moment. She cocked her head in the direction Cait had gone, and Dogmeat took the signal, scurrying after her.

MacCready and her Minuteman follower were watching her expectantly, so she started easing her way along the wall on this side of the building, stepping carefully to avoid making too much noise. The Minuteman was behind her, a shotgun held firmly in his grip, and MacCready brought up the rear with his sniper rifle.

As they edged around a section of shelving, Evelyn froze, making the Minuteman behind her almost topple into her before he caught himself. Lying on the floor ahead were a pair of feral ghouls, a few steps apart from each other. Squaring her shoulders, Evelyn raised her rifle, setting her sights on the back of the nearest ghoul.

But before she could make the shot, MacCready was beside her, pressing a hand against the barrel of her gun and shaking his head. Evelyn faltered, frowning in question, and he jerked his chin towards the ferals.

She looked again, narrowing her eyes. It took her a moment to realize what MacCready was trying to tell her. The ferals were already dead.

The first one was lying with its back towards the group, but dry blood speckled the tiles just beyond it. The second ghoul had a partially severed neck, head twisted unnaturally to one side. Evelyn approached them slowly despite a quiet hiss of alarm from MacCready. She moved until she could study the first ghoul and confirm her suspicions. The front of its body had been torn up in a similar manner to Mason’s, though this ghoul had a ribcage that had been crushed inward on one side.

Evelyn glanced up at MacCready and the Minutemen, both of whom had followed her nervously into the more open intersection between two aisles. She nodded her head in silent confirmation of the question in their eyes, averting her gaze from the ghoul. She had no love for ferals, but they had been human once too, and this was an awful way to die.

The three continued towards the back of the store, encountering another dead ghoul with similar wounds that was sprawled across an aisle, forcing them to carefully pick their way over its carcass. Blood smears painted the floor here and there, but Evelyn could see they weren’t all very old. Some of this blood had only just recently been added. One shelf near the back of the store looked like something heavy had crushed part of it.

A shout of alarm from Cait had Evelyn’s head snapping up to look towards the middle of the store- a useless attempt, as there were too many shelves and too much clutter to allow for that. Her feet were moving without really thinking about, deftly shifting to avoid debris as she ran. Footsteps behind her told her that MacCready and the Minuteman were following.

There was a gurgling snarl and the sound of scrambling bodies ahead, followed swiftly by a gunshot. Evelyn leaped a collapsed display unit and rounded a corner to see Cait and her Minuteman companion standing over the twitching body of a feral ghoul, fingers curling and digging into the floor as it hissed. The Minuteman had blasted a hole into its chest, but Cait finished it off with a swing of her machete across the neck before lifting her eyes to meet Evelyn’s gaze.

“You okay?” Evelyn asked breathlessly, forcing her tense muscles to relax a bit.

“Yeah, just spooked us,” Cait huffed, nudging the feral with her foot to ensure it was dead. “The other one we saw was already dead. Thought this one was, too.” She cast an unimpressed look at Dogmeat. “Your guard dog there didn’t even alert.”

Dogmeat was standing stiffly beside Cait with hackles still raised, but he indeed seemed distracted, his head swiveling about every few moments and ears flicking this way and that. It set Evelyn on edge.

There was a crash to her left, and she whirled around, jerking her rifle up- and almost firing a shot into Hancock’s face as the ghoul stumbled past the hunk of metal he had just tripped on. Hancock raised his heads up in surrender, but Evelyn immediately lowered her gun, pushing out a hard breath. “Sorry.”

“Hey, no sweat,” Hancock put a hand on her shoulder before peering around her to look at Cait. “We were trying to pick the lock to a back room, but we heard yelling.” As he spoke, Preston and Nick appeared behind Hancock, stepping more carefully around the piece of scrap metal that Hancock had kicked across the floor in his haste.

“Just a feral,” Evelyn explained. “We saw some dead ones, too. Same wounds as Mason.”

“Same here,” Preston spoke up before Hancock could answer. “One crushed against the wall near the back room.”

Evelyn shifted uncomfortably as all eyes moved back to her, awaiting her direction. “Well… Whatever it is, it must not be in here anymore.” She said finally, though she felt her eyes drawn back to Dogmeat and the way he still stood, stiff as a board and crackling with wary energy. “Let’s see if Dogmeat can pick up more of a trail somewhere.”

Together as a single unit again, everyone headed back towards the front of the store, seeming more comfortable to speak now that they had cleared the building. Evelyn swung her pack around in front of her, thrusting a hand in and feeling around until her fingers brushed against her water bottle. She gulped water while she let her thoughts roam.

Whatever they were up against, it was strong. Not even deathclaws could crush bodies like they had seen done to Mason’s legs and the ferals. It had to be something new to the area, too; not even the Commonwealth’s long term residents like Hancock and Nick seemed to have any clue as to what the creature could be. Maybe it was something concocted up by the Institute? Her eyes narrowed at the thought. She’d seen the gorillas when she was there- they could have something else hidden away in the depths of their complex. But, no- as wicked as Shaun was, she didn’t think he would let loose some nasty beasts, especially not near her. Would he…?

Her thoughts were cut off by a sound behind her. She tensed, glancing down. Dogmeat was frozen beside her, fur standing up on end, a low snarl building in his throat. She’d never heard him make such a menacing sound before. Combined with his ears pressed flat to his head and the teeth he bared, it made her blood run cold.

She glanced back at her team, finding them all as tense as her, weapons raised. She opened her mouth to speak, but Dogmeat was moving before she address her team. Her head snapped back around as he lunged towards the end of the aisle ahead. A hiss escaped her teeth. “Dogmeat, no-!”

Chaos erupted. A huge paw swiped out from around the corner as Dogmeat cleared the aisle. It struck the canine in the flank, ripping away skin and fur and sending him flying into a pile of debris. The paw was followed by a hunkering body, black eyes narrowed to slits as it fixed them on Evelyn.

At the same time, another one of the creatures arced up from two aisles away and landed heavily on a shelf further behind the team, causing the top shelf to cave in but managing to balance precariously on what was left. Rodent-like teeth clicked rapidly as it studied the cluster of people below.

The creatures reminded Evelyn of bears, but they were sleeker in form akin to a great, muscular cat. An extra pair of legs sprouted out behind their forelegs, and their heads looked like battering rams. The image of Mason’s smashed legs flashed through Evelyn’s mind.

Just as quickly as the beasts had appeared, they were being fired upon. Evelyn levelled her rifle, fury surging through her, and blasted three holes into the creature ahead of her. The shots hardly seemed to slow it down; it took one to the cheek and two sliced into its hulking shoulders, but it just clicked its teeth at her and barreled towards her.

The sounds of the fighting behind her seemed to fade into blackness, all of her focus going to the beast as it charged. It dropped its head, ready to plow her over. Her thoughts raced. Not only was her own life in the balance, but if it reached her it would bowl over her and then trample her companions behind her as well.

Fuck it. Evelyn charged the beast back. Bullets zipped past her head, and one hit the beast in the snout, making it stumble. But it recovered quickly, realigning its charge, flat head primed to crush Evelyn’s chest in. She tugged her combat knife from her belt, clenching it hard enough to turn her knuckles white.  And then she jumped.

The low angle of the beast’s head aided her, and she landed hard against the back of its neck. The collision knocked the wind out of her and send a jolt of pain up her spine, but at least she wasn’t turned to mush on the ground.

Clearly surprised by this unexpected rider, the creature slammed on the brakes, thrashing its head and shoulders viciously in an attempt to dislodge her. Evelyn twisted her fingers around the hilt of her knife and then swung her arm with all her might to bury it behind the beast’s head at the base of its skull.

The beast let loose a keening wail, body lurching violently sideways into a metal shelf as it twitched its head to the side, now trying to dislodge her knife. She clung on to it for a moment longer, forcing it in further and making the beast thrash in pain. When the knife was seated to the hilt, she finally let go and kicked away wildly, letting herself tumble to the floor away from the monster.

It ducked the front of its body, swiping a foot up in a desperate attempt to remove her knife, continuing its high pitched wail all the while. Evelyn scrambled across the floor to her rifle, pushing her back into the shelves when she had it in her grip again and firing off a few shots at the beast she’d been fighting.

Her shots reminded it that she was there. It raised its head up stiffly, then stalked towards her purposefully while she pushed herself to her feet.

“Come and get it, bitch,” Evelyn growled back at it, unloading her rifle into it. The damn thing had a thick skull, though, and her head shots were only weakening it.

There was a blast to her left, and she instinctually turned her head towards it. Someone had lobbed a Molotov cocktail at the second beast; it looked like it had been driven back towards the end of the aisle before being lit up. This creature, too, began to wail, crashing into shelves in its attempt to get away from the flames.

Her distraction cost her. Her eyes moved back to the creature before just in time to see it leap in her direction, long claws and snapping teeth aiming for her throat.

Someone crashed into her, slamming her hard into the floor. She got the breath knocked out of her for the second time today, and the crack of her head against the tile brought her headache rushing back at full force. There was an even greater crash beside her as the beast flew over her and slammed into the shelf, sending it toppling over as well as several other shelves around it. A gunshot above her followed it

Evelyn groaned, struggling to focus with a throbbing head and ringing ears. She became aware of hands gripping her under the arms, tugging her away from the destroyed shelves. She tilted her head back slightly, blinking blearily. “Mac?”

He grunted in confirmation, sliding her up against the shelf at the very end of the aisle. He knelt in front of her, snapping his fingers in front of her face when her eyes glazed. “Hey, hang in there,” he murmured, his voice quiet despite the raging fight going on nearby. She rolled her eyes to her right, straining to see what was going on. The prone shape at the other end of the aisle suggested that one of the beasts was down, but the team seemed scattered, firing shots through the rift that had been created by the second beast when it jumped over her.

Twisting her head made her aware of a new pain, though, and her gaze dropped to the gouges in her arm where the beast’s claws had skimmed over her. The adrenaline must have numbed her to it. She let her head fall back against the shelf, another groan rising in her throat.

“Eve.” Her eyes opened again slowly, focusing on MacCready’s blue eyes bearing into her own. “Focus on me,” he urged. He had dug a stimpak and a roll of gauze from his pack, and he carefully slid her torn sleeve up her arm to bare her injury. The stimpak came next as he injected it in higher up her arm, waiting until he was sure she received a dose before beginning to wind gauze around her arm while the medication flowed into her veins.

Evelyn struggled to obey him, trying to focus first on his face and then his hands as he worked on her arm. Her head _hurt_. Pain radiated out from the back of her skull, curling harsh claws around her head and digging in behind her eyes. She didn’t even feel the stimpak being injected.

But then MacCready was up on his feet in front of her, propping his rifle against his shoulder to lend his assistance to the rest of the crew. Evelyn scooted away from the shelf, trying to get a look at what was happening.

Her team was finishing off the second creature. It was struggling to retreat now, but was too injured to get away from the onslaught. Even Dogmeat had joined in, but he was bloodied and holding up a front leg as he lunged in close to snap at the beast’s legs before dancing back out of reach again when it tried to bite back.

It would be done soon. Evelyn’s eyes drifted back, and she almost leaned back again until her gaze snagged on two shapes lying in the aisle not far from her. Her breath caught in her throat.

The nearest was the body of the Minuteman who had accompanied her and MacCready earlier. He had been unlucky; the beast must have trapped him against the floor with its bulldozer head, and his body didn’t stand a chance. His chest had been crushed in. Dead.

Next to his body, Preston was sitting back against a shelf, one hand clutching his abdomen. She could see blood soaking through his shirt. But despite his injury, he still raised his pistol, firing at the remaining beast when he could get a clear shot.

There was a hissing groan over her shoulder, and she turned to see the beast slide to the floor in defeat. Her companions inched closer to the downed beast, still peppering it with bullets, but it only turned its head to stare in her direction. Oily black eyes met her own and held her there; she felt frozen in the creature’s strange gaze, staring back at it. Its eyes were unlike the eyes of any animal she had seen before. They had a particular intelligence to them- a _knowing_. It made a cold shudder pass through her. As if it could sense it, the beast clicked its teeth at her a few times- slow and deliberate- before it finally broke her gaze to drop its head on the ground and wait for the end.

“These things don’t go down easy, do they?” Hancock’s snarling voice rose over the gunshots as they died down. He broke away from the others, stalking towards the creature and levelling his shotgun at it. The beast simply stared up at him with its unnerving eyes. Hancock got as close as he dared and fired both rounds from his gun right between those eyes. The beast’s final breath slipped from its jaws, and it lay still.

“Shite, look at you,” Cait crouched in front of Preston. “Took a nasty hit.” She helped him to his feet, making him wince.

“It’s shallow,” he assured her. Preston’s eyes shifted to meet Evelyn’s, and a look of grief passed over his face. He limped slowly in her direction, followed by the rest of the group.

“Mac, if you would,” Evelyn stretched her good arm up. On a normal occasion, she’d feel like a fool to be asking for help to her feet. But right now, she wasn’t convinced she wouldn’t pass out the moment she tried to stand up.

MacCready obliged, grasping her arm and helping her upright. She had to bite the inside of her cheek to keep herself grounded as her head spun and pain throbbed in her temples. Once she was standing, she observed the fallen Minuteman again.

 _Your fault_ , that thing in her head hissed at her. _You were sloppy._

She ground her teeth, but instead just moved her gaze over the crowd, meeting the eyes of each of them in turn before spluttering out, “I’m so sorry.”

“You have nothing to apologize for,” Nick stepped towards her, gripping her gently by the shoulder. Yellow eyes followed her line of sight to the body on the floor. “We all knew the risks. He gave his life to help protect others.”

Evelyn chewed on her lower lip, nodding numbly. She should have done better, though. Should have been more alert- maybe posted a guard so nothing could have snuck up on them like that. Hell, if Dogmeat hadn’t run ahead, the creature probably would have gutted her before she even noticed it when she passed that first corner.

And she should have been better prepared. She had grenades- she should have been ready with one, ready for an attack like this. They’d been trapped. Part of her wondered if the beasts had purposefully waited for some unsuspecting prey to wander into the building to be ambushed. But they couldn’t be that smart- could they? Her thoughts went back to the Institute. If they had engineered such creatures, who was to say they hadn’t granted them enhanced intelligence? The image of the beast’s dark eyes flashed back into her mind.

“We need to get you two back to Sanctuary,” Hancock slung his shotgun over his shoulder, pulling one of Preston’s arms over his shoulders to help him limp along. “Looks like it hit you pretty hard,” he added, eying Evelyn’s wrapped up arm and the hand she pressed against the side of her head.

Evelyn frowned, glancing down at her bandaged arm. Spots of blood had already appeared, staining the gauze with red-brown patches. But it wasn’t nearly as painful as her head felt. And none of it compared to what had happened to the crushed Minuteman.

 Her eyes drifted over to him for a moment, and she felt a spark of frustration in her chest. She could have saved the man’s life had she not been taken out of the fight when MacCready knocked her down.

As the thought passed through her mind, her eyes slid over to MacCready, standing on her right. That spark in her chest flared with anger- anger at herself that this had happened, that she hadn’t been able to stop it. Anger that she could feel herself directing at MacCready. The rational part of her brain was trying to stomp out the feelings, telling her that he had been trying to save her from that beast’s claws, that he didn’t deserve these feelings from her.

It was the irrational part of her that ended up speaking.

“No,” she said, receiving surprised glances from her companions. She clenched her jaw and saw a frown crease MacCready’s face in response. It piled on top of the guilt already rushing through her veins. “I got pushed down and hit my head. Otherwise, I could’ve been helping you. Helping him.” Her eyes flashed down to the fallen Minuteman again as the words tumbled out.

There was a beat of silence in which everyone looked a bit uncomfortable. Except MacCready, who looked like he’d been slapped in the face. “What?” He said indignantly, turning to face her. “That thing was gonna smash you like a can of cram. I was getting you out of the way.”

“Well, forgive me for not having your gold medal ready,” Evelyn snapped. It came out harsher than she intended, and she saw the way MacCready’s face hardened, but she couldn’t seem to stop the flow of words. There was a fire inside her now, adding a bite to her speech. “I could have handled it myself. I could have helped everyone. Good thing it didn’t come back to finish the job, would’ve been _real_ nice to die sitting on my ass down there.” She was just spitting the words out as they came to her now, fists clenched. She didn’t care if it made sense. She was just- angry. The emotions were overwhelming her. MacCready’s face seemed to shut down as she spoke, and he looked away bitterly.

“Evelyn.” Her head snapped around to look at Preston, frowning at her in disappointment. It was enough to make that flame inside her sputter and die out. “He was just trying to help. Any of us would have done the same.”

She twisted her head away, breathing hard to refocus herself. It wasn’t easy when her head pulsed with sharp pain. She knew it was unfair, and that the way she was acting was wrong. What happened wasn’t his fault. She was just projecting her own shame and anger. It hurt to keep it inside, but now that she’d let some of it out, she just felt worse.

Evelyn dragged her eyes back up to MacCready after a long moment, a newfound shame spreading through her at the sight of his cold expression. “I’m sorry,” she mumbled. What a sad excuse for a general she was: not only was she a messy leader, but she even shouted at her own men. No, scratch that- she was a bad friend. She shouted at her own friend. She swallowed the guilt in her throat.

“Let’s head back, okay?” Hancock tried again, taking the lead with Preston on one side. The other Minuteman stepped up silently to Preston’s other side, carrying his laser musket for him. Her eyes darted briefly to Evelyn’s. She was probably wondering why she was working for such an incompetent leader.

“Actually, I’m going to Cambridge,” Evelyn announced, making all heads turn back her way. She rushed on. “I want to talk to Danse about these things. The Brotherhood might know what we’re dealing with.”

“That’s a good idea,” Nick mused. “But you shouldn’t be going alone- there could be more of those animals out there. I can come with you, if you’d like,” he offered.

Evelyn was grateful for his offer, but it would never work. She shook her head. “Danse is not a problem, but I think the other Brotherhood soldiers might have a problem with that. Sorry, Nick,” she added apologetically. Nick just shrugged, as if he’d guessed that answer.

“No need to worry. I’ll come with ya, lass,” Cait grinned at her from her other side. Evelyn couldn’t bring herself to smile back at the moment, but she extended her good arm to rest against Cait’s own arm.

“Sure. Thanks,” she murmured. Evelyn looked to Dogmeat, who now stood patiently in front of her, tail wagging slowly despite his injuries. “You too, boy,” she added, and Dogmeat’s tail wagged faster.

She felt her eyes drift to MacCready. He didn’t deserve her nasty attitude like that, especially right after saving her ass in the middle of that brawl. She was about to invite him along too, but then he squared his shoulders and brushed past her, moving to join the others. “Let’s go. I need a stimpak for my shoulder, think I wrenched it.”

“What about the body?” Hancock asked, tilting his head towards the fallen Minuteman. Hancock obviously didn’t remember names, either; but then again, he wasn’t the general. He shouldn’t need to.

“Too dangerous for the Minutemen to come back for it,” Evelyn murmured. “I’ll see if Danse can arrange some Brotherhood men to take it back to Sanctuary, okay?”

She could see the gratitude in Preston’s eyes at that, but Hancock only nodded. “Be careful with them, Eve. I don’t trust them,” he warned.

“I’ll do my best,” Evelyn shrugged. The Brotherhood wasn’t a problem for her, though. Sure, they could be a pain in the ass- particularly Maxson- but she still found most of them to be good people at heart.

And so the team now split in two, each moving their own separate ways. Cait linked her arm through Evelyn’s uninjured one, chatting with her as they started heading south down the street, probably trying to distract her thoughts from what had just happened. Even though she knew what Cait was doing, Evelyn let herself sink into it, letting Cait’s voice lull her throbbing head while Dogmeat limped on her heels. She could only hope Danse would be at the police station today.

 


	3. Man and Monster

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Edited 4/8/19

It took them longer than it should have to reach Cambridge. Slowed down by their injuries, it was a miracle they didn’t get attacked by something else along the way. The sun beating down on them from above only made the pain in Evelyn’s head worse, making her squint her eyes and keep her head ducked to try and avoid the bright glare. Her steps felt heavier and heavier as they approached College Square, her fingers barely able to maintain their grip on her rifle.

Dogmeat was limping along a few steps ahead. Cait had used a stimpak on him when it became clear he wouldn’t be able to use his injured leg without one, but he still needed to be seen by an actual doctor. Along with his damaged leg, he had lacerations along his ribcage where one of the beasts had struck him with nasty claws, as well as a few nasty scrapes on the other side where he had landed against some debris.

“Eyes up, Eve,” Cait’s voice pulled her attention away from Dogmeat, blinking against the sunlight as she looked at the other woman. Cait was watching a pair of feral ghouls across the square, but they hadn’t noticed the small party yet.

“We’re almost there.” Eve’s voice sounded weird to her own ears- heavier, like her footsteps, and maybe even a little slurred. If Cait noticed, she gave no indication of it.

Evelyn forced her eyes open, struggling to focus as the barricade around the police station came into view. She refused to crawl in there looking so pathetic; she could fight past the pain for a few minutes, if only so Knight Rhys wouldn’t have yet another excuse to be an ass to her.

A sentry was stationed on the upper level of the wall, and when he noticed them, he raised a laser rifle to point in their direction. “You are entering Brotherhood territory!” He shouted. “State your business.”

“You don’t know who the hell this is, do ya now?” Cait snapped angrily, clearly in no mood for Brotherhood bullshit. Evelyn wondered if it was a good idea to bring her sharp-tongued companion along after all.

To save them from getting riddled with laser beams, Evelyn raised a placating hand, shooting Cait a look before speaking to the sentry. “Knight Evelyn Blake,” she called back, wanting to wince at her own voice. Too loud inside her head. “And friend.”

The sentry immediately lowered his rifle. “Knight Blake! We were not expecting you.”

Evelyn ignored him, silently leading Cait and Dogmeat through one of the arches and up the steps to the station. Part of her missed the days when it was only Danse, Rhys, and Haylen here- as much as she loathed Rhys. This station had been her home for a while, before she had become general of the Minutemen. She spent many days here training with Danse. He was a big part of the reason she managed to survive out in the wasteland; without his lessons, she probably would have been picked off a long time ago. As much as she didn’t agree with many Brotherhood ideals, this place would always be important to her. These days, Brotherhood men and women seemed to constantly circulate here, moving between the Prydwen and the station. She could never remember any names; the faces always seemed new.

Cait smoothly stepped past Evelyn, yanking one of the heavy doors open for her and Dogmeat. Evelyn shot her a grateful little smile; she was never one to ask for help very much, especially not with the Brotherhood sentries watching her, so she appreciated the gesture.

The dim interior of the police station was a welcome reprieve from the sunlight outside. A soft sigh of relief slipped from Evelyn as the door swung shut behind her group, eyes dancing across the spacious lobby in search of Danse. She as disappointed not to find him there. Hopefully he hadn’t taken a trip back to the Prydwen. She hadn’t spoken to him since returning from her Institute trip a few weeks ago, and she knew he would be itching to hear all of the details. And that was precisely why she hadn’t come here yet; she wanted to avoid the truth she had unveiled. She wanted to forget what Shaun had become, and instead remember her tiny, cooing baby.

“You guys look like you picked a fight with a deathclaw.” Annoyance immediately flared up inside Evelyn before she had even turned her head to look towards the source of the voice. Knight Rhys, of course. He had pushed himself away from the desk he was sitting at, studying them with a slight sneer on his face.

“Something like that,” Evelyn murmured, catching ahold of Cait’s arm and tugging her companion along as she marched towards the soldier’s quarters. Cait and Rhys were a volatile mix, and as funny as it would be to see Cait knock some of Rhys’s teeth out, she didn’t want to deal with that right now.

She rounded the corner and almost collided with Scribe Haylen, walking side by side with what appeared to be another scribe and each carrying a bundle of papers in their arms. Evelyn stopped short before she could topple over the stack in Haylen’s arms. Haylen squeaked in surprise. “Oh, I’m sorry!” Her eyes darted up to look at Evelyn, and her face lit up. “Blake! You’re back!”

Evelyn managed a smile for her. She had always liked the nervous scribe. “Haylen, good to see you. Do you know where Danse is?”

“I think he’s still sleeping in his room,” Haylen reported. At Evelyn’s questioning look, Haylen went on. “He was out all night with a team; we received reports of synth activity in an old warehouse, and they went to clear it.”

Evelyn nodded  and moved to step past the scribe, but Haylen put a hand out to stop her. “What happened to you?” Haylen asked, concerned. Her eyes studied Evelyn’s bandaged arm before moving up to her face, eying the bruises forming there alongside the gash she had received from the raider fight yesterday.

“It’s… a long story,” Evelyn said, eyes flicking to the other scribe uncertainly for a moment. She didn’t want to reveal too much yet; not until she talked to Danse about those creatures.

Haylen pursed her lips. “Well, let me at least get you fixed up,” she said. When Evelyn opened her mouth to protest, Haylen went on. “You look like you’re about ready to pass out, Knight.”

Evelyn would usually have argued, but… Haylen wasn’t wrong. “Alright. But Dogmeat and Cait first,” she said.

“No way,” Cait protested, crossing her arms. Haylen nodded in agreement.

“I’ll have one of the other scribes take a look at them, okay?” Haylen promised, leading the way to the office that had been repurposed into a miniature infirmary and medical storage.

“Fine,” Evelyn relented, following after Haylen.

She spent the next half hour with Haylen fussing over her, cleaning out the wound on her arm and bandaging it up again before grilling her for details about her headache, where she hit it, how it felt in different spots. Another scribe had been summoned to deal with Cait and Dogmeat, looking rather unpleased about it but not foolish enough to protest.

Evelyn watched in amusement when he asked Cait about the bruising on her arm, partially hidden by her sleeve. Cait promptly stripped her shirt off with only a bra underneath, making the scribe immediately blush bright red and turn his head away, stuttering about not needing her to undress. Cait just shrugged, unbothered, and then turned so that the scribe could see the way the bruising spread down the back of her shoulder blade. She never had been a very modest person.

By the time Haylen was done, she had deduced that Evelyn likely had a concussion and even possible damage to her skull, recommending she head to the Prydwen to get an x-ray. She tried to warn Evelyn not to do any strenuous activities, but from the look on her face, they both knew that it would be happening regardless.

The other scribe spent his time tending to Dogmeat looking considerably more nervous, with Evelyn scowling down at him and tensing every time Dogmeat whined while the scribe tried to assess his leg. The scribe hurriedly gave Dogmeat another simpak injection as well as a simple brace for his injured leg. Haylen stepped in to help with his other wounds, cleaning them out gently and talking to Dogmeat in a babyish voice while she worked. The dog rested his head on her knee, tail thumping against the floor.

Evelyn was antsy to speak to Danse and then get going. The longer she stayed here, the more likely it was that Maxson would hear about it and try to get her back on the Prydwen. No doubt he would want to hear all of the details about the Institute, and having to do a debriefing with him was just about the last thing she wanted to do right now.

At least her head was feeling better. Resting it had helped, but it was mostly due to Haylen’s careful tending and medications. The throbbing had dulled significantly, and her vision no longer swam so much when she stood up too quickly. The effects of the concussion could take a while to fully go away, Haylen had warned her, but for the moment, Evelyn was just glad she could look around again without stabbing pain behind her eyes.

She now sat beside Cait at one of the small tables that had been set up adjacent to the lobby so that the soldiers would have somewhere to eat. Upon leaving the infirmary, Cait had smelled food and immediately insisted her stomach would shrivel up if they didn’t get some, so here they were. Evelyn nibbled at a piece of Brahmin sausage, sneaking chunks to Dogmeat every now and then. He gobbled them up happily, tucked under the table and wedging his head up between her and Cait’s thighs to turn big brown eyes on them. Cait was shoving pieces of roasted vegetables in her mouth, but still managed to keep talking throughout the meal.

“When’s your hunky friend in the metal suit gonna join us?” Cait asked, chewing on a piece of tato and sliding her eyes slyly towards Evelyn. “Usually he rushes to see you.”

Evelyn felt the heat creeping up her neck, but she snorted at the teasing. “Probably still sleeping would be my guess.” She sliced off another piece of sausage. It didn’t taste great, but it didn’t taste bad, either. She popped it into her mouth.

“Well then, I’m thinkin’ we oughta wake him up after this,” Cait remarked. “I don’t fancy spending the night here. Or travelling back in the dark.”

“Me neither,” Evelyn muttered. For all they knew, there were more of those monsters out there. To try and head back to Sanctuary in the dark would be like handing dinner to them. She had no doubt that even one of those creatures could probably make quick work of her, Cait, and Dogmeat in their current physical states.

They were almost finished clearing their plates when familiar footsteps sounded in the hallway beyond. Evelyn recognized the sound- she’d spent a lot of time around the guy, okay?- and raised her head as Paladin Danse rounded the corner. He was dressed in his orange flight suit, though the top was rolled down to sit around his hips and he wore a gray tank top instead. His hair was still messy from sleep, brown eyes tired.

But when his surprised gaze snagged on Evelyn, he suddenly seemed less tired and was heading for her table. Evelyn sucked in a breath, bracing herself for his onslaught of questions.

“You’re back,” Danse remarked, hesitating at the bench on the other side of the table and gesturing to it. “May I?”

Evelyn resisted the urge to roll her eyes, amused that he would even ask. “Of course.”

Danse slid into the seat, propping his elbows on the wood. A slight frown crossed his face, looking her up and down, eyes lingering on her bandages. “What happened?” He asked quietly, concern edging his voice.

 _Nice to see you too_ , she thought. It seemed they were going to be jumping right to it.

“Well, I’m gonna take a look around,” Cait interrupted, pushing herself up to her feet and bringing her plate with her. She gave Evelyn another one of her sly looks. “You kids have fun.”

Evelyn felt her cheeks warming again, and she shot a scowl at Cait. “Don’t get into any fights,” she called after her.

Dogmeat had wiggled away from Evelyn to greet Danse, sniffing all over his legs and making Danse shift uncomfortably. Evelyn grinned faintly. “That’s actually what I’m here to talk to you about,” Evelyn said. She glanced around the little dining area, eyes on the other Brotherhood members eating around them and lowering her voice a bit. “Somewhere a little more private would be better, though.”

Danse considered her for a moment, then nodded, rising to his feet. “The workshop, then. No one will be down there at this hour,” he assured her.

Evelyn followed after him as he led the way down to the room cluttered with workbenches and training equipment. Dogmeat trotted after them, walking a little awkwardly with his splinted leg. Danse flipped the switch, bringing life to the weak lights strung along the walls, then made sure the door was shut behind them before turning back to Evelyn expectantly.

She leaned back against the edge of a workbench, chewing at her lip uncertainly. Should she start with the Institute? She wasn’t sure she could bring herself to divulge all of the details. She trusted Danse, but he was still loyal to Maxson, and she worried what might happen if the Brotherhood elder knew the truth about her son. Besides, the beasts were still the more pressing concern right now.

“Something killed a Minuteman guard last night,” she started, watching the way Danse’s brow furrowed. She rubbed a hand on Dogmeat’s head, tracing the patterns in his fur with an idle finger. “It ripped him open, smashed his legs. Quietly enough that no one even found him until this morning.”

She described the events from that day, starting when they found Mason’s body in Sanctuary and leading up to fighting the creatures in the Super Duper Mart. Danse listened patiently, though his face was hard and eyes narrowed in thought. Evelyn did her best to describe the beasts in detail, hoping he might recognize them, but there was no indication of familiarity on his face. She even unwrapped her bandage to show the claw marks that had been carved into her flesh.

“And so here I am,” Evelyn finished, crossing her arms tightly over her chest. “I was hoping you might know what those things were, and where they’re coming from. Because if there are many more around Sanctuary, we’re going to have trouble fighting back.”

Danse scratched at his chin with that frown still set on his face. “I’ve never seen such animals as the ones that you are describing,” he admitted, “but they sound incredibly dangerous. Maybe even worse than deathclaws.”

Evelyn nodded slowly. “I think they are. I… I felt like they set us up, Danse,” she murmured, voicing the fears that had been swirling around inside of her head all day. “They laid a trap and waited for us to fall into it.”

That frown on his face deepened. “It might be the Institute’s work,” he suggested. He leaned forward slightly, brown eyes studying her face carefully. “And you were just there,” he went on. “You must be aware of some of their operations now.”

Evelyn wasn’t able to quite meet his eyes. “Yes,” she said simply. “But I don’t think the Institute is behind this. They’re… it’s hard to explain,” she sighed, sliding her eyes back to his briefly now. She wouldn’t say it, but she _did_ have a nagging concern that the Institute was involved in this- but voicing those fears to Danse would only make him more paranoid.

Danse crossed his arms, mimicking her stance. “I understand. But the Brotherhood will need the details, soldier. Whatever information you have on the Institute will be valuable to our campaign. Especially if they could be manufacturing a new breed of organisms.”

Evelyn dug her fingernails into her skin, anger surging. Just like that, she no longer considered telling him the truth of Shaun today. “Why did I bother coming to talk to you like this if you’re just going to give me that Brotherhood speech bullshit?” She snapped, seeming to catch Danse off guard. “I’ll tell Maxson what I know. I will. But this is  _not_ easy for me. None of this is easy for me,” she seethed, approaching him to jab a finger towards his chest. She had to tilt her head back slightly to glare up at his face. “Fuck. Two of my men _died_  today, Danse.”

She had successfully left Danse at a loss for words. He looked like he was fighting some internal struggle, not sure how to respond. But then he pushed out a breath, backing down. “Forgive me,” he said. “It must be very hard on you.”

Evelyn felt a lump forming in her throat, but she forced back her feelings, retreating a few steps from Danse so she could lean against the workbench again. She closed her eyes, taking a few deep breaths to center herself. She was lashing out again. Yeah, Danse sometimes spouted his Brotherhood lines, but the Brotherhood was his life. It would be unfair of her to expect him to put it aside for her personal concerns.

The silence started to stretch on between them. Evelyn opened her eyes again, finding Danse watching her. “I blame myself, a bit,” Evelyn admitted, her voice quiet. She knew Danse would protest immediately, so she went on. “I’m not a leader like you, or Maxson. I feel so stupid for not realizing that we were walking right into a trap.”

“You couldn’t have anticipated those creatures. You didn’t even know of them,” Danse argued, speaking more gently now. “And I’m not such a fine leader myself. You saw what happened to my recon squad.” A touch of bitterness reached his voice, and Evelyn suddenly felt bad. She shouldn’t have brought this topic up. She shouldn’t even be venting to him; he probably thought she was just fishing for pity.

She scuffed at the ground with her toes, unsure of her how to respond. Danse spoke for her instead. “I can help you if you would allow me, Blake,” he offered. “The Prydwen has a database of information. Perhaps it will have a file on these creatures.”

Evelyn slid her eyes up to him. If he wasn’t calling her ‘knight’ or ‘soldier’, it was by her last name. She wasn’t sure he’d ever called her by her actual name. And she wasn’t sure what to make of her offer. Maxson wouldn’t just let Danse wander off with her on yet another, as he so politely called it, ‘fool’s errand’. But his suggestions about the databases could be promising. The only problem: she would have to go to the Prydwen.

“Thanks, Danse,” she ran her fingers through her hair, tugging at the knots that had formed during her rough day. “But if I head to the Prydwen, Maxson will definitely try to grill me for the details,” she studied the dirt on the floor as her toes continued to push it around. “I don’t think I can deal with that right now,” she admitted.

 _Coward_ , her mind hissed. She pushed it away.

“I just want to keep my eyes open right now. I thought I might grab a sample from one of the creatures and bring it to Curie, see what she can find out,” Evelyn went on, glancing up to gauge Danses’s reaction. “And, since you offered your help… I could really use some Brotherhood knights to help me recover my man’s body at the Super Duper Mart.”

“Of course, soldier,” Danse perked up at the idea. “I’ll get a team ready to go tomorrow morning. To Sanctuary, I assume?” He asked.

Evelyn nodded. “Yes. Thank you, Danse,” she said, and she meant it. She might not have been able to save that Minuteman, but she would not leave him there in death. He could be buried alongside his other fallen brothers and sisters just outside of Sanctuary. She smiled at Danse. For all of his Brotherhood propaganda, she considered him a close friend- albeit a little difficult to talk to sometimes.

That said, she had little love for the Brotherhood as a whole. They weren’t evil like the Institute, but they had a serious superiority complex and a deeply-rooted dislike of anything they deemed unhuman.

The door to the workshop swung open, and Evelyn jolted, startled by the sudden noise before scowling. Speak of the devil.

Knight Rhys stood straight at attention. “Sorry to interrupt,” he said, though the smug look he shot Evelyn suggested otherwise. “Elder Maxson has ordered that Knight Blake returns to the Prydwen by 1200 hours tomorrow.”

“What?” Evelyn’s hands balled into fists, stalking towards Rhys angrily. “You told him I was here?”

“Of course,” Rhys scoffed at her. “I knew the Elder would be very interested to learn his wastelander pet had returned.”

Evelyn snarled in his face, arms tensing to throw a punch, and Rhys narrowed his eyes, as if to say  _I dare you_. Dogmeat rose up to his feet, growling at Rhys. Good boy.

“Knight Blake.” Danse’s commanding voice spoke out, and then he was between them, pushing a hand firmly against her shoulder. She yielded back a step, moving her glare to his face instead. He was just doing his job, of course; but that didn’t mean she wished he would look the other way so she could smack that stupid smirk off of Rhys’s face.

Danse ignored her, turning his hard expression to Rhys instead. “Watch how you speak to your fellow knight,” he said coolly. “I’ll make sure she reports to the Elder tomorrow. You should get back to work,” he tilted his head towards the door, dismissing him.

Rhys just grunted, exchanging a scowl with Evelyn once more before turning and heading back towards the lobby.

“Ass-kissing  _rat_ ,” Evelyn growled, turning away and clenching angrily at the edge of a worktable. Danse was stiff, as if considering reprimanding her for it, but she ignored his warning look. “This was the last thing I wanted to deal with.”

“It had to happen eventually,” Danse remarked, but Evelyn’s sharp look stopped him from continuing.

“I’m supposed to go back to Sanctuary. Help bury the Minutemen we lost.” She closed her eyes and breathed hard. She found herself doing that a lot recently; it helped calm down the blood roaring in her veins. “There’s still so much to do.” _And so much I don’t want to tell Maxson_.

“I can still send the team out,” Danse offered. “Dogmeat and your other companion can accompany them. They’ll be safe.”

Evelyn opened her eyes again, focusing on the solid wood under her hands. It was a good idea; Cait and Dogmeat would be heading back to Sanctuary with an escort of armor-clad knights, even if she wasn’t able to be there. The idea of defying Maxon’s order was tempting, but he would be  _very_ pissed considering he was probably up in his floating fortress awaiting the details from the Institute trip. Not to mention the lecturing she would get from Danse if she even tried it.

“Fine,” she relented, shoulders sagging. “I guess I should go and give Cait the heads up.”

The pair made their way back to the lobby. Several Brotherhood scribes were gathered together going over reports, but it had otherwise emptied out. The evening patrol had probably already headed out. She hoped Knight Rhys was on it. Maybe one of those creatures would eat him.

Evelyn found Cait in one of the side offices with Scribe Haylen, surprised to see Haylen giggling in response to something Cait had said. She leaned in the doorframe, raising her brows. “Cait, are you torturing Haylen with another one of your raider stories?”

Cait turned, giving Evelyn a crooked grin. Haylen looked delighted. “It’s just the first time I’ve heard a story about killing a man with a spoon,” Haylen laughed. Cait puffed with pride.

“It’s a talent,” Cait proclaimed. Evelyn was grinning back now, but could practically feel the distaste rolling off of Danse in waves.

“C’mon, Cait,” Evelyn jerked her head. Cait hopped to her feet, bidding Haylen farewell before following Evelyn towards the back of the lobby.

Danse decided it was probably better not to be standing close too Cait as Evelyn broke the news. Smart choice; Cait did not like Maxson and would not be happy. Instead, Danse made his way back towards the dining area- probably to make up for the meal he never got earlier, since he ran into Evelyn instead.

Evelyn crossed her arms, sighing. “Maxson has ordered me to return to the Prydwen tomorrow.” Cait was immediately bristling.

“His doing?” Cait demanded, eyes darting towards the doorway Danse had gone through. Evelyn shook her head quickly, hoping to spare Danse from Cait’s wrath.

“No. One of the Brotherhood reported I was here. I’m sure Maxson wants the Institute intel,” Evelyn said. She wasn’t about to reveal that Knight Rhys did it, though; as much as she’d like to see Cait maul him, she wasn’t convinced it was a fight that Cait would win, either.

Cait was watching her warily. “And what are you gonna tell him...?”

The implied question was clear. Cait knew the truth of Shaun; she was one of the few people that Evelyn had told everything to. “I don’t know yet,” Evelyn admitted. Her eyes moved across the room, watching the group of scribes warily. Perhaps this wasn’t the spot to be discussing this.

“But you and Dogmeat are going back to Sanctuary tomorrow,” she went on. “Danse is setting up a team of knights to go with you. They’ll retrieve the body from the Super Duper Mart as well.”

A sudden thought struck her, and she swung her bag from her shoulder, digging through it. Cait peered at her curiously until her fingers tugged out a bottle of water with only a small amount of liquid left. She held it out to Cait. “Can you get some samples of the creatures for Curie, too? A few different ones- blood, skin, you know. Use this.”

Cait accepted the bottle with a shrug. “I never understand all of your science stuff, but- sure.” She glanced back up to meet Evelyn’s eyes. “You certain this is a good idea, lass?”

“I don’t have much choice,” Evelyn shrugged. “Maxson doesn’t really take no for an answer. But hopefully I can be in and out, and maybe I can even get a vertibird to drop me off at Sanctuary when it’s all done, yeah?”  _And then it’s time for a talk with Shaun._

Cait didn’t look very reassured, but she nodded. Evelyn forced a grin, trying to look confident in this decision- even if it wasn’t really  _her_ decision. “Hey, just be glad you have an armored escort instead of me to go back with. Now let’s see about finding somewhere to rest our heads.”

 

With the Brotherhood now using the police station full time for their missions, the room that Evelyn used during her training had been commandeered by weary knights and scribes that constantly circulated through it. It was for this reason that Danse insisted on putting Cait and Evelyn up in his quarters instead, reminding them that he had just slept for hours prior and wouldn’t be needing it any time soon. And then Cait had threatened to give her a second concussion if she didn’t ‘put her ass in the damn bed right now’ when Evelyn tried to take the sleeping bag on the floor instead.

So here she was, tossing and turning under a thick blanket on Danse’s bed. Even if she hadn’t known whose room she was in, it would’ve been impossible not to notice Danse’s smell on everything. In fact, she could probably recognize most of her friends by smell alone at this point; they had all spent so much time together, on the road and during missions, and sharing close quarters so often really taught her to notice things like that.

Even so, smelling Danse all over this bed she was trying to sleep in was something else. Wearing power armor all day made a man sweaty. She hoped he washed his sheets often.

When sleep finally claimed her late in the night, it was only to plunge her into a cold sea of hellish dreams.

_She was walking through the Institute. At least, it looked like the Institute- but the lights were dim and flickering, the hallways and laboratories swathed in shadows. Equipment that had once been pristine now sat mangled and broken, neglected pieces of metal and glass littering the walkways._

_Her steps echoed in the eerie silence as she made her way slowly towards the director’s quarters. A creeping fear was working its way through her body, making her heart pound in her chest and her hair stand on end. Where is everyone? What happened? This wasn’t right- she was just here a few weeks ago.  Is Shaun okay?_

_She picked up her pace, feeling her heart follow the lead and flutter wildly as she hurried to the door to Shaun’s quarters. He might be a monster, but he was still her son. He needed to be okay._

_The door creaked open slowly when she pushed on it. She eased her way into the room nervously, eyes darting around to take in the scene. This room was perhaps the worst of them all, furniture smashed against the walls and shredded files strewn across the floor. Blood was smudged across the ceiling in the corner._

_But then her gaze found Shaun, and she breathed out a sigh of relief. He was sitting at his dusk, slumped forwards with his back to her._

_“Shaun,” Evelyn said, stepping towards him. “What happened to this place?”_

_Shaun didn’t move. She slowly came to a stop, still halfway across the room. Something didn’t feel right. “... Shaun? It’s me,” she said quietly, feeling herself struggling to speak as hot tears pooled in her eyes. “It’s mom.”_

_Shaun’s muscles twitched unnaturally, a spasm that seemed to start at his shoulders and jerk his body upright. He twisted around slowly in his chair, and when she looked at his face, all she found staring back at her were two great, big, black eyes as round as marbles._

_She should be screaming, running, getting away from the awful eyes that now stared at her. But she felt rooted to the spot, as if her legs refused to obey her mind’s commands. She could only watch as Shaun slowly rose to his full height, swaying slightly on his feet, and stepped towards her stiffly._

_As he moved, he changed. His body started to swell, lab coat splitting apart from the force of growing flesh. Muscles curled around his arms as he dropped heavily onto all fours, a guttural snarl rising in his throat. A lashing tail stretched away from him, snapping in the air like a whip. Claws burst free from his hands, grating against the floor with a screech._

_Those eyes stared into her own the whole time. Eyes that knew things. Cold, calculating, predatory eyes._

_“Shaun…” she choked out, finally finding her feet to stumble backwards- and bumping into the cool metal wall behind her._

_The thing that was Shaun snarled again, the sound more confident this time. His face had contorted, first in a grotesque grimace and now stretching into something inhuman. His clothing had been turned to shreds by now, hair curling out from his spine as he straightened his body up fully, bracing powerful forelegs against the ground- all four of them._

_She was staring down one of the beasts again, just as she had done twice before in the Super Duper Mart. Once before the beast charged her, and again as it suffered its final moments of life. Shaun’s beast sat up on its hind legs like a perching bear. Its four heavy arms lifted, pushing against the wall and floor on either side of her, trapping her as it moved its head in close. Breath that smelled like rot slid from its parted jaws when it bared its rat-like teeth._

_Those teeth were the last thing she felt, digging deep into her shoulder to pick her up and slam her into the ground where waiting claws would peel flesh from bone._

Evelyn jolted awake with a choked gasp. She shuddered violently as the ghosts of those claws left her skin, gripping at her arms and pulling her knees up to her chest. Her skin was slick with sweat, and tears were trickling slowly from her eyes.

That was a different nightmare than usual. She closed her eyes, breathing slowly to try and get herself under control before she woke Cait up. She could still feel herself trembling. It had felt so real. She wanted a drink.

She rolled onto her side to stare at the wall, pulling the blanket up close to her chin. A soft sigh escaped her when the smell of Danse floated up around her again, and she found herself wiggling down in further to inhale it deeply. It was calming, to be wrapped up in the smell of someone she trusted; it was as if some part of him were here, offering her comfort.

Despite herself, she felt a smile creeping onto her lips. The few times Danse had attempted to comfort her on some of her bad days, he’d struggled to find the words. She didn’t blame him; it was hard as hell to comfort people who had gone through shit like she had. And Danse wasn’t the best at communication to begin with.

Her heart was finally slowing down, and she felt like she could breathe again without gasping each breath down. Yet even with the sweat still pooling on her skin, she kept herself wrapped up tight in Danse’s blanket, letting his scent envelop her.

When she finally slept again, it was peaceful.               

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry if some parts are a little slow in these first chapters! Trying to get a good feel for writing all of these characters. More action coming soon!


	4. Pick Your Battles

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for my hiatus from this story! Had a rough fall semester, but I'm back to it and hoping to get new chapters finished up!

Riding a vertibird to the Prydwen at 10:00 in the morning after fighting off big mutated monsters the day before was just about the last thing Evelyn wanted to be doing right about now. She was tired after only getting a few meager hours of sleep, as well as sore from getting thrown around like a ragdoll by those beasts. The combination put her in quite a sour mood.

Stimpaks had taken care of most of her injuries and gone a long way in easing her concussion symptoms, but she had deep bruising on her ribs and thighs that were still tender to touch. So she’d chose to forgo her usual leather armor today and instead just wore a pair of dark jeans with a loose gray hoodie over a tank top. She didn’t care that Danse had looked horrified at her choice of attire for a meeting with the Elder; anything more fitted than this caused her to wince from every little movement. Besides, she couldn’t comfortably wear a bra very well due to the bruising, and anything that wasn’t big and loose would have made that fact very clear to everyone else. 

Evelyn turned to look out at the Commonwealth as buildings rushed past below. She hoped that her Minutemen hadn’t encountered any more of those awful creatures. At least Danse’s team would be on their way to Sanctuary by now; knowing that there was some extra protection nearby, at least for the time being, was reassuring to her. Her dream from the night before flashed through her mind, and she shuddered at the memory of the beast bearing down on her. She didn’t want any more of her people to have to experience those monsters.

The vertibird was slowing down, turning alongside the Prydwen as they drew in close. Evelyn tilted her head back, squinting against the bright sunlight reflecting off of the airship’s metal hull. She stifled a sigh as the docking mechanisms latched onto their vertibird, pulling them under the Prydwen’s belly.

There was a heavy, metallic thud as Paladin Danse dismounted, landing on the platform beside the vertibird. He’d stood silently in his power armor during the ride, but now turned and offered Evelyn a hand in getting down: a small sign of understanding that he recognized she hadn’t fully healed from the skirmish yesterday, and he’d noticed. Though she doubted he would ever say anything about it, both because he knew she didn’t care to be treated delicately and because Danse was not so good at communicating anything besides Brotherhood orders. 

She was grateful for it. It was one of the things she appreciated about Danse. They’d spent so many days working together that they had a bit of an understanding of one another now, and they didn’t always need words to express themselves anymore. She gripped his hand and hopped down onto the platform beside him, biting hard at the inside of her cheek to stop herself from flinching at the pain that pulsed over her ribs. “Lead the way,” she said.

They technically still had two hours before she was required to meet with Maxson, but she might as well get it over with, right? She had more pressing matters to deal with besides reciting all the grueling details of her Institute visit to the frosty Elder.

Danse escorted her into the cool exterior of the Prydwen, and Evelyn breathed a sigh of relief as the latch closed behind them and sealed out the humid Commonwealth air. Even on a cold morning like today, the air always seemed sticky. She brushed clinging strands of auburn hair away from her face, tucking them back over a shoulder as she trailed Danse towards Maxon’s personal office on the top level of the command deck. A shower would’ve been a good idea before this meeting, but with her jeans and hoodie she figured Maxson would already be giving her that disapproving look he always seemed to wear, anyways.

The guard outside the door, shuffled aside to let Danse and her enter. Maxson had surely informed the guards to be expecting their arrival; he would never say it, but she was certain Maxson was itching to hear all her information on the Institute. 

Danse stepped in first and then shifted aside to stand near the wall; he often lingered there when Maxson debriefed her, seldom speaking up unless Maxson asked it of him. The guard outside slid the door shut again when Evelyn was inside.

She tilted her chin up slightly, eying the Elder. He had turned to face them as they entered, hands clasped behind his back. His sharp blue eyes were already fixed intently on Evelyn, but left her face to study her choice of clothing momentarily, mouth curving ever so slightly in a frown. She crossed her arms when he met her gaze again, narrowing her eyes slightly as if daring him to say anything about it.

Instead, he just inclined his head a bit. “Knight Blake,” he said by way of greeting. “I understand you finally made it to the Institute.” His voice took on a slight edge. “You were to report straight back to me when you returned.”

She continued to stand in place with arms crossed, refusing to break eye contact. “I had important matters to attend to with the Minutemen.” Half of a lie. “I figured you could stand to wait while I dealt with those matters.”

Elder Maxson studied her in silence for a moment, obviously not satisfied with her excuse. But his desire to hear about her time in the Institute overrode whatever scolding he may have wanted to give. “Your son,” he started. Evelyn immediately tensed up. “If I remember correctly, you went there to find him.”

She was silent for a beat before speaking. “Yes.” Her throat suddenly felt tight.

Maxson waited, but when she offered no further explanation, he spoke a touch more gently. “It did not go well, then.”

She again did not answer him right away, instead sliding her eyes over to Danse. She found him already looking at her, frowning. She suddenly wished she had taken the time to talk about things with him before this meeting. “I did not find what I was looking for,” she stated finally, swallowing hard to try and relieve the thick feeling in her throat.

“I’m sorry to hear that,” Maxson replied sincerely. He studied her for a long moment. “If you need a moment before the debriefing-“

“No,” Evelyn cut in quickly. She didn’t want any special treatment, especially not from Maxson. “Now is fine. I have another matter to discuss with you afterwards as well.”

The Elder cocked his head slightly, but nodded. “Very well. I should like to know all of the information you have regarding the Institute.” He leaned back against his desk, arms crossed over his chest.

Evelyn sucked in a breath to steady herself before launching into her story. She explained the teleportation that the Institute used, as well as the structure of their faction and some of their scientific work. Maxson eventually switched to pacing around his desk as she went on, only occasionally interjecting a question to clarify some detail. But there was some information she would not reveal to the Brotherhood; if asked about it, she feigned frustrated ignorance. She was a good liar, and though Maxson seemed displeased with her lack of knowledge in some areas, he didn’t seem to catch on.

While she had no problem lying to Maxson, she did feel a twinge of guilt to see Danse listening so attentively. He had been good to her, and he didn’t deserve the lies. But he was Brotherhood; as much as she trusted Danse to have her back, she couldn’t expect him to conceal information from Elder Maxson.

“So you really don’t know where the facility is located?” Maxson sighed, once more leaned up against his desk. She had finished her story, and now had to get through the Elder’s barrage of questioning. “You can’t map it on your pip-boy?”

“Doesn’t work so far underground, I guess,” Evelyn lied smoothly, shrugging her shoulders. “For all I know, it’s not even in the Commonwealth.”

Maxson studied her silently for a long moment, and Evelyn felt her heart rate kick up a notch. Did he suspect she was lying?

“You said you can return to the Institute, though,” he mused carefully. Evelyn resisted the urge to groan. She knew this was coming.

“Yes. Something about the fact that I’m pre-war. Lots of scientific jargon I didn’t quite catch,” she remarked. “But they will allow me to relay back and forth freely.”

“Permission to speak, Elder,” Danse stepped forward into the room, clearing his throat. Evelyn glanced curiously at him. It was the first time he’d spoken up since she’d begun her story.

Maxson nodded, looking too distracted by his own thoughts to answer. Danse turned to address Evelyn. “Are you sure it’s safe? It sounds like they could be trying to use you for their science experiments,” the Paladin said, looking wary.

“A good point,” Maxson commented, eying Evelyn. “We cannot trust the Institute, and for this reason, returning would be unwise.” When Evelyn opened her mouth to protest. Maxson held up a hand to continue. “And yet, having someone on the inside is perhaps the only means we have right now of gathering information. I believe that the benefits outweigh the risks, in this case.”

Evelyn crossed her arms, snorting. “Nice assessment. But I should tell you, I intend to go back either way.” Danse frowned, concerned. “The Institute threatens the people of the Commonwealth, and as general of the Minutemen it falls on me to protect those people.”

“Then it seems we are in agreement,” Maxson said simply, straightening up. “You will need to return to the Institute, and whenever you come back above ground you are to report straight to the Prydwen.”

Evelyn scowled. “I have other business to attend to, and I cannot always drop everything to heed your every-“

“That’s an order,” Maxson growled stiffly. Evelyn ground her teeth, staring him down. Danse shifted in his power armor, glancing between the volatile pair.

 _Pick your battles_ , she reminded herself. This wasn’t the time nor place for this one; the effort wasn’t worth it, not with a much larger concern looming over her head.

She heaved a breath, but finally yielded, breaking eye contact with the Elder. “I told you before that there was something else I came to discuss.”

Maxson just inclined his head slightly, inviting her to continue.

“We have encountered a new breed of wasteland creature,” she stated. “They’re dangerous. Two of my Minutemen have been killed by them already.”

She described the creatures to Maxson, as well as explaining what happened to her team at the Super Duper Mart. Unfortunately, Maxson seemed equally perplexed, scratching at his chin.

“I’ve never encountered such things, nor read of them in any Brotherhood files,” he admitted. He met Evelyn’s gaze. “Perhaps they are another abomination manufactured by the Institute.”

Evelyn tapped her foot, shifting her eyes away from him. She had considered it; that perhaps Shaun had loosed the beasts into the Commonwealth. She wanted to rule out the possibility, but she couldn’t; after all, Shaun had left her to wander the wasteland after she crawled out of that vault. Did he truly care if she lived or died? Perhaps her Minuteman settlements just made convenient targets to test his new monsters out.

“They could be,” she admitted finally. “But they just… don’t fit the Institute’s style. These things looked like mutated monsters, not the carefully engineered work that the Institute prides itself on.”

“We would like to check the archives for more information, Elder Maxson,” Danse broke in. “Evelyn’s team was also sent to collect samples from the specimens. It could be beneficial to us all to have some of those samples analyzed here.” Evelyn cast a grateful look at Danse.

Maxson considered for a moment, eyes never leaving Evelyn. She resisted the urge to fiddle with her pip-boy; his piercing stare made her uncomfortable sometimes.

“Go through the archives if you wish,” he said finally, speaking to Evelyn. His gaze shifted to Danse. “But I cannot spare the Brotherhood’s resources unless these creatures become a real threat.”

Evelyn’s demeanor changed instantly. She bristled, taking an angry step towards Maxson. “’A real threat’?” She hissed. “They killed two of my men. They’re as big as deathclaws, and smarter- they work together. I’d call that a _real threat_.”

“I am sorry for the deaths of your men, but two deaths is not truly a thing to be concerned about. We cannot go hunting down every animal that kills someone,” Maxson said dryly. “For all you know, the two beasts that your team killed were the only two in the Commonwealth.”

Evelyn clenched her fists but made no further move towards Maxson. “There’s something _wrong_ with these creatures, Maxson. I can feel it.” The Elder’s jaw stiffened at her informal address, but she plowed on. “The Brotherhood has technology that could analyze these things and help keep the Commonwealth safe. What if these ones were just the first of many?”

“I am not changing my mind,” Maxson said simply. “What I said stands: If the creatures prove to be a true threat, the Brotherhood will step in. But until then, we have more important matters to attend to.” He fixed his stare on her again. “I cannot expend resources on this simply because it gives you a bad feeling, Knight.”

She was going to strangle this man. If only she could make him experience the same fight she did at the Super Duper Mart; if she could make him stare into that beast’s cold black eyes, then maybe he’d manage to get it through his thick skull. Didn’t he even care to learn if there were more of those things out there?

“You would care if they killed Brotherhood men, though, wouldn’t you?” Evelyn challenged. Maxson glared, and even Danse tensed up. “But because they only killed some inferior wastelanders, you don’t give a shit.”

Maxson’s glare bore into her for another few moments, and she met it with as much fury as she could muster. Then Maxson shifted his gaze to Danse. “Paladin Danse, I think Knight Blake is rather stressed. Please escort her to her quarters so she can get some rest.”

“I’m stressed because you aren’t fucking listening to me, Maxson!” Evelyn snarled, stepping towards him again. Danse shifted in between them, and Evelyn snapped her gaze up to his own, fire smoldering in her eyes. “Don’t you dare.”

The pained look that crossed Danse’s face made that fire start to flicker uncertainly. “Please, Evelyn,” Danse said quietly, tilting his head towards the door. Maxson leaned up against his desk behind Danse, having the audacity to almost even look _smug_ about this.

Danse never used her first name with her. Once, maybe twice before, perhaps. That fire in her sputtered and died out. She dug her fingernails into the palms of her hands, glowering at Maxson for a moment longer. Then she spun around and stalked to the doorway, throwing it open and making a bee-line to her room on the Prydwen. She could hear the heavy footsteps of Danse following behind, but didn’t bother to look.

* * *

 

Hours later, Evelyn sat cross-legged on the bed in her room, scanning over papers she’d pulled from one of the multiple files scattered across the sheets. A half-eaten plate of bland vegetables and meat sat on the bedside table, along with a pair of empty beer bottles. Evelyn was currently working on a third beer, taking swigs from it every few minutes as she devoured the papers she’d borrowed from the archives earlier that day.

After being ‘escorted’ to her room after the meeting with Maxson, she spent the first hour trying to think of all the ways she could kill the man and get away with it. Danse had attempted to talk to her when they’d first arrived at her room- probably another one of his poor attempts to make her feel better- but she’d coldly brushed him off. She was angry with him even though she knew it was unfair; he had been doing his best to help her out, and it wasn’t his fault that his boss was a complete asshole. He was following orders, ever the dutiful paladin.

He hadn’t tried to return in the hours since, and at this point she was feeling a little guilty for her rude treatment of him earlier. Not that was about to seek him out to deliver apologies, though; she’d gone to the archives and the mess hall instead, choosing to gather what she needed before holing herself back up in her room. The Brotherhood had a decent collection of files on various wasteland creatures, as well as flora and fauna that they had yet to do full analyses of. She wanted to get through this stack of files and then get off this wretched airship.

Yet she had so far failed to turn up any information on beasts that matched the description of the things she fought. Some came close: there was a file on a species of hairless mountain lions with bony armor on their heads and backs, and another detailing sightings of a six-legged Yao Guai that a recon team claimed to have seen further south of the Commonwealth, but nothing lined up with what she had witnessed.

She loosed a frustrated puff of breath, lifting the beer to her lips for another long drink. The warm buzz of the alcohol in her system was a welcome feeling, even if part of her felt guilty for drowning her emotions in a bottle again. Better this than marching over to Maxson’s quarters for a brawl, at least.

She plucked up the next paper. It was a long analysis on a species of giant grasshoppers that were attracted to bright lights. Useless. She tossed it aside and took another long drink. This seemed like a waste of time; these files were turning up nothing for her, and instead she was just sitting here getting drunk instead of doing anything remotely useful for the Minutemen. She was a shit excuse for a general.

Her eyes started to feel wet and she rubbed at them harshly, pulling the sleeves of the hoodie over her hands to scrub her face. Pathetic. Couldn’t even handle a few drinks without the tears coming, every damn time. She snatched up the next paper to distract herself.

There was a hesitant knock at the door. Evelyn’s head snapped up, jaw set hard. “Whoever it is, _go away_.”

“Can I please come in?” It was Danse’s muffled voice through the door.

Evelyn scrubbed at her eyes again with the sleeves but didn’t immediately answer. Finally, she leaned back against the wall beside the bed, heaving a sigh. “I guess.”

The door eased open and Danse slipped inside, shutting it quietly behind him before taking in the scene. Evelyn slouched back on the bed, still wearing the same hoodie and jeans from before, a mess of papers and files spread across the remaining space on the bed in front of her, and the beer bottles huddling on the nightstand. But instead of commenting on the gigantic mess her life had clearly become, he just tilted his head towards the files. “Find anything?”

“No,” Evelyn said bitterly. Danse had finally ditched the power armor but remained in his black flight suit, only now with the addition of a jacket on top. He was shifting on his feet just slightly, which was enough to tell Evelyn he was uncertain. Understandable; he never seemed to know how to approach people gently.

“You want some help?” He offered after a moment. Evelyn just shrugged her shoulders noncommittally. In truthfulness, part of her did want the company of a friend; but part of her also wanted to just be alone with her miserable self right now.

Danse joined her, sitting at the other end of the bed after clearing a space among the files. Evelyn pulled her legs in, tucking her knees up to her chest and wrapping her arms around them to give him some space. She winced at the movement; she’d almost forgotten about her bruising.

“Those are files I’ve already gone through,” she murmured, tilting her head to indicate the mess of papers on the left side of the bed. “The rest I’m still working on.”

Danse nodded in acknowledgement, gathering up a stack to start flipping through slowly. Evelyn took sips from her beer still, eyes wandering over the papers but flickering up to study Danse every now and then. Similarly, she noticed his eyes darting to her and away again every few minutes.

She sighed. “You have something to say,” she said flatly. Not a question.

The shuffling of papers at the other end of the bed paused, and Danse shifted slightly to face her better. “Yes,” he admitted, setting the files to the side. “I wanted to say that I’m sorry how it went today with Elder Maxson. I know how much you want to figure this out.”

Evelyn was suddenly the one feeling uncertain, dropping her eyes from his. “You don’t have to apologize to me for what he does. And I’m sorry I was such a jerk to you for it,” she added. Apologies like this always made her feel vulnerable.

“You had a right to,” Danse protested. “I shouldn’t have… you didn’t need an escort to your room.” Evelyn snorted softly at that. Of course she didn’t; Maxson just wanted to flex his power and humiliate her.

“And I know Elder Maxson won’t allow Brotherhood resources to go towards the Minutemen work,” Danse went on, “but if you encounter any more of those creatures- or any threats that you need help with- you contact the police station. If I’m there, I’ll lend a hand,” Danse promised.

Evelyn felt a swell of emotion at the declaration of support; too much emotion, actually, because she felt tears pricking at her eyes again. She angled her face to the side to swipe her sleeves over her eyes once more, but chuckled softly.

“Maxson might not like that,” she commented, smiling slightly across at Danse. Danse grinned faintly in reply. It was a rare sight coming from him.

“You are a Knight of the Brotherhood, Blake,” Danse said. “I will never ignore a call for help if you need it.”

Evelyn smiled into her drink, taking another gulp of room temperature beer. “Thanks. You’re a good friend, Danse,” she murmured.

Guilt struck her hard as the words left her. Danse was a good friend, but she wasn’t. All those lies she’d spun to Elder Maxson this morning- Danse was stuck in that same web. She hadn’t even told him the truth of her son. She didn’t deserve to be treated with such kindness by him. The beer suddenly tasted sour in her mouth.

“I’m not sure these files are worth the effort,” she said, abruptly changing the subject. Danse blinked at her, looked wary of her sudden change in mood, but looked down at the papers in his lap.

“You’ve only been through half the stack,” he tried. “Maybe there’s something in here that could help.”

Evelyn set her bottle aside, frowning at the files she had yet to search. “Nothing has even come close to the monsters I saw,” a note of frustration crept into her voice. “I shouldn’t be wasting my time here. Maxson has made it clear he doesn’t give a shit about my people, and the Minutemen need me back in Sanctuary.”

Danse looked uncomfortable- he usually did when she said anything negative about Maxson- but wisely didn’t reprimand her this time. He watched her begin to gather up the used files into an uneven stack. “I can have Scribe Haylen go through them for you, if you’d like,” he offered after a moment.

Evelyn paused, frowning at him. “I doubt your precious Elder would like that idea. You know, using up Brotherhood resources and all.”

Danse shrugged. “Haylen complains about the amount of free time she has these days with all the other scribes running around here. She’ll probably be happy to have an assignment to work on.”

He was definitely being nicer than usual to her today. But then again, he’d heard that lie about Shaun earlier- that she ‘didn’t find what she was looking for’. Oh, god, he probably thought Shaun was dead. She chewed at the inside of her lip. She would tell him the truth. But not now, not on the Prydwen.

She didn’t think these files would help her- not if Danse and Maxson both had never heard of the creatures out there. But Danse was doing his best to help her in this.

She rose up on her knees and shuffled across the bed towards him. Danse looked at her questioningly, but stiffened up completely when she threw her arms around his neck and tucked her face against his shoulder for a brief moment. “Thank you,” she said earnestly, releasing him from the hug after a few seconds to look at him. He was clearly not used to receiving hugs, but managed to relax enough to nod silently at her.

Evelyn swung her legs off the bed, hopping to her feet. “I mean it,” she said, padding across to the nightstand to gather up the used bottles. “I owe you one.”

Danse stood up and began gathering the files she hadn’t searched, tucking them into a much neater stack than she had made. “You’ve helped me out more times than I can count, Blake,” Danse retorted. “You don’t owe me.”

Evelyn rolled her eyes to herself. Danse was always so humble.

“Either way,” she said, dumping her trash into the bin by the door. “If you ever need _me_ to save _you_ from another pack of ghouls at the police station, just send a messenger to Sanctuary.”

Danse straightened up, arms overflowing with the files he’d gathered up. “You’ve got yourself a deal, Knight.”

* * *

 

Well, Danse had managed to make her feel a little bit better with his rare moment of sensitivity, but her mood was immediately ruined again when she ran into Lancer Captain Kells on her way to the vertibirds and exchanged some heated words about loyalty. He’d apparently been _very_ interested in her visit to the Institute, and the man didn’t trust a bone in her body.

Fair, considering she’d lied through her teeth earlier. But she still hated him.

Danse had to force his way in between them to keep her from throwing an alcohol-fueled punch into the man’s sneering face, and then practically dragged her out to the vertibird they would be taking down.

Unfortunately, it also meant Danse had snapped back to his usual, rather aloof nature with her, no doubt angry she’d almost come to blows with Kells. Not that Kells didn’t deserve it, but all the beer in her system was definitely not helping her attitude.

Danse stood silent in his power armor, files tucked safely into the storage compartment for delivery to Haylen. Evelyn had taken one of the seats behind the pilot again, analyzing the map on her pip-boy as they flew. The pilot had agreed to take her to the outskirts of Sanctuary for drop-off before taking Danse back to the police station in Cambridge. It was a relief to know she wouldn’t be trekking home alone in the dark, constantly checking over her shoulder in case another one of those creatures came charging out of the night.

When the vertibird finally touched down just beyond the bridge, lights from Sanctuary glowing softly in the distance, Evelyn turned to Danse. “Thank you again,” she said. “Next time I head south I’ll be sure to swing by the station.”

Danse just dipped his head to her. “I’ll let you know if Scribe Haylen finds anything for you. Until then,” he said. The vertibird whirred louder, lifting from the ground. “Ad victoriam!” Danse added, raising his voice above the noise.

Evelyn raised a hand in farewell, waiting until the sound of the vertibird had faded into the darkening sky before turning to face the bridge. There were a few shapes already waiting for her on the other end, it seemed; several flashlights bobbed her way.

She squinted against the bright lights, raising a hand to shield her face. “Just me!” She called out.

“Well look who it is,” Hancock’s voice, rich with amusement, was the first to reach her. Evelyn couldn’t help but grin at it. Flashlights were directed away from her face, and she could finally make out the bodies approaching her. Hancock, Marcy, and another of the Minutemen she wasn’t as familiar with.

Hancock threw his arm around her shoulders, falling into step beside her as they headed towards Sanctuary. “Cait told us how things went at the police station,” he said, sliding mischievous eyes to her. “I can’t believe neither of you knocked some heads around there.”

Evelyn felt a laugh bubble up, unable to help herself. Hancock was good at getting her to laugh. “Oh man, _I wish_ ,” she snickered. “You don’t know how badly I wanted to see Cait have a go at Knight Rhys. One day I’m gonna let her knock his teeth in if I don’t do it myself first.”

Hancock snickered with her. Marcy sighed loudly and rolled her eyes, picking up the pace to leave them behind. They snickered louder.

A cheerful bark heralded Dogmeat’s approach as the big canine barreled down the street and jumped up at Evelyn, tail wagging wildly. Evelyn smiled, leaning down to rub at him affectionately. The twinge of pain she received in the ribs was worth it.

“I missed my boy!” She cooed, scratching behind the dog’s ears. Dogmeat’s leg seemed to be mostly healed already from the fight, and the wounds on his flank were nothing but shallow marks now. The settlers here must have given him another stimpak after the Brotherhood escorted him and Cait back.

Preston appeared from one of the houses, followed closely by Cait. “General!” Preston called, looking relieved to see her. “Glad you’re back.”

Hancock crossed his arms from where he stood beside Evelyn. “I think she missed the dog more than any of us,” he told the others.

Evelyn shot a playful look at him. “You’re damn right I did.” Hancock pressed a hand to his heart in mock hurt.

“How did it go with the Elder, lass?” Cait reached Evelyn, throwing her arms around her in greeting but immediately releasing her when Evelyn wheezed out a little sound of pain. “Shite, sorry ‘bout that.”

Preston drew up beside them, looking concerned. “Do you need another stimpak?”

Evelyn shook her head, waving away their concern. “I’m fine, just need some water and a spot to sit, I think,” she said. “Gather the gang around, would you? Whoever’s not busy right now. The meeting room.”

“Sure thing,” Preston turned on his heel, heading off up the street again. Cait shooed Hancock after him, and the ghoul relented, following after him to round up the team for the meeting.

“So,” Cait said, looping her arm through Evelyn’s and leaning in to whisper in a conspiratory voice. “How was it? Spending quality time with your favorite tin can?” Cait wiggled her eyebrows.

Evelyn groaned loudly. “Cait, if you’re so in love with Danse you ought to just propose already.”

Cait broke into a laugh, sauntering along beside her as they headed to the meeting room. “Aw, lass, I can’t take your man from you. I’ve seen those puppy-dog eyes ya give each other.”

Evelyn snorted. “The day Danse gives _anyone_ puppy-dog eyes will be the day I start worshipping Atom.” She paused, glancing sideways at Cait. “Well, aside from his power armor, that is.”

Cait snickered. “I suppose you’re right. With the way he looks at that suit- well, I don’t think you stand a chance, lass.”

Evelyn and Cait shared a loud laugh at the silly banter. In Evelyn’s defense, she still had alcohol in her system.

“Come on,” Evelyn tugged Cait along. “I don’t want this to take too long. Everyone will be angry with me if I keep them from dinner, but I think this is something they should hear."


	5. Just A Bite

The news that the Brotherhood would not be assisting the Minutemen did not go over well.

The meeting room had filled with bodies; not only those of her usual team, but many of the Minutemen and settlers who had come to hear the news. The attack from the previous morning had left them all on edge, and they’d piled into the room looking hopeful that Evelyn had found answers.

Not only had she failed to find any information on the creatures, but she’d failed to secure any help from the Brotherhood as well- aside from Danse’s promise of backup, that is. She had let her temper get the best of her and probably ruined any chances she had of swaying Elder Maxson’s decision.

 So she sat in the meeting room for an hour after speaking her part, listening to the arguments, the suggestions, the anger and fear. She understood; despite all the work she had put into Sanctuary, it no longer felt safe. To someone like Maxson, a couple of murderous prowlers- that’s what the beasts had been nicknamed in her absence- might seem like a minor inconvenience. And yet they were perhaps the most dangerous creatures in the Commonwealth now, and to know there could be more lurking outside Sanctuary was making everyone nervous.

But to talk about the Brotherhood wasn’t really the reason she called this meeting. She never expected the Brotherhood to become guardians of the Minutemen, after all- even if it _would_ have been nice for Maxson to actually pretend like he had a real interest to keep the Commonwealth safe. The Minutemen needed to keep themselves protected. And so new defenses were decided, new guard schedules were arranged, and by the time the last of the team was trickling out the door, it seemed that some of the nervousness in everyone had subsided- for now.

Evelyn found her feet carrying her towards the smell of food, stomach growling as if it just remembered it was hungry. The sun had fully set by now, and with darkness all around, it seemed that no one was keen to wander off on their own too far from one of the well-lit buildings near the center of the neighborhood. Dogmeat plodded along beside her, nose up in the air to take in the smell of roasted vegetables that drifted on the breeze.

She maneuvered her way between the crowded tables of the makeshift mess hall, doing her best to dodge conversation attempts when settlers noticed her approach. The last two days had been hectic and stressful; she just wanted to have a hot meal and try to relax a bit. There was so much riding on her shoulders these days that it was far too easy to feel overwhelmed. A tiny, selfish part of her sometimes wished she could just run off into the wasteland and leave her responsibilities behind.

Her eyes landed on her group of friends, huddled together at a table while Hancock regaled them with another one of his greatly exaggerated stories. A smile tugged at her lips to see them all laughing with one another. Those guys were the real reason she would never run away from any of this.

Evelyn gathered some food onto a plate, helping herself to a pile of the delicious-smelling veggies and some scraps of what looked like mirelurk meat. Dogmeat was practically stomping on her feet, begging for a handout. “Preston said he already fed you,” she chided him, but peeled off a shred of meat to toss him anyways.

She slid onto the bench beside Nick, stuffing some roasted tato in her mouth to satisfy the grumbling in her stomach. Cait sat across from her neck to Hancock, scoffing at some of the bold claims he made as he told them about the time he and Fahrenheit supposedly fought a super mutant behemoth. Evelyn grinned at the casual, familiar feeling around her; it was a nice distraction from everything else.

“How you holding up, kid?” Nick asked, turning himself to face her better. Evelyn shrugged, chewing on a tough piece of meat.

“A little rough, I guess,” she admitted. She looked out over the mess hall around them. “Just wish I could do more.”

“You’re doing more than enough already,” Nick assured her, patting her hand comfortingly. “You let us know when you need a hand.”

Evelyn grinned again, surprised at how easy and genuine it was. “Of course. Thanks, Nick.” The synth nodded his head warmly before shifting his attention back to Hancock and Cait, now starting to bicker over some detail of Hancock’s story that Cait was insisting he made up.

After shoveling down the rest of her meal, Evelyn left her companions to their chatter, Dogmeat still hovering around the table waiting for someone to take pity on him and his big, sad eyes. She wanted to find MacCready; she owed him a proper apology for snapping at him after fighting the prowlers at the Super Duper Mart. She’d been told that he’d gone back to guard duty after the meeting. He had agreed to take on some extra guard time since he was their best long-range gunman in the settlement, and it seemed to ease some of the settlers. She knew he’d be in his usual spot for it.

Evelyn circled around one of the old buildings near the end of the road in Sanctuary, finding a good spot to climb using a window sill as a foothold. As with most of the buildings, the settlers had begun to build around and on top of it, crafting additions out of wood to expand space for storage and sleeping. Evelyn made her way nimbly up to the roof where a few wood walls and a ceiling had been erected, an open side facing out towards the dark forest beyond the settlement. A perfect vantage point for anything approaching Sanctuary from this side.

MacCready had obviously heard her coming, head turned in her direction as she approached. He was sitting on an old sleeping bag, rifle across his lap. A lantern sat beside him, but he hadn’t lit it, instead seeming to prefer to sit in darkness.

“Hey, boss,” MacCready greeted her as she came to join him, sitting down cross legged beside him and leaning back to put her palms against the cool concrete roof beneath them.

“I told you to stop calling me that,” Evelyn huffed, grinning at him. Sitting around the table with their other friends had put her in a good mood. She wasn’t normally the best at talking things out, but with spirits higher than usual and warm food in her belly, she was feeling confident.

“Right. Sorry,” MacCready apologized, turning his gaze out to the dark woods in the distance.

Evelyn pulled a foot up to unlace the boot there. “You prefer the dark?” She asked, gesturing to the unused lantern beside them. She loosened the laces enough to tug the boot off, discarding it to the side and starting on the other.

“Easier to see,” he explained, nodding towards the trees. “Lets me have a long range of sight in case there’s anything out there.” He tapped on his rifle.

She bobbed her head in a nod, pulling the second boot loose and setting it aside before stretching her legs out in front of her. “Smart,” she commented, flexing her feet in the cool air. Even with socks on, having them removed from the confines of the boots felt much better. “See anything interesting?”

“Only if you find molerats interesting,” MacCready snorted in response, stretching his legs out to match her position.

They sat in silence for a few minutes, gazing out at the forest as Evelyn considered how to word her apology to him. But before she could get into it, MacCready turned his head to look at her again. “How’s your head doing?” He asked quietly. There was a touch of guilt to his voice, and she immediately felt bad.

“Doing fine now,” she assured him, but went on quickly before he could reply. “Mac, I’m sorry I was such an asshole to you about it. I was upset, but not at you,” the words came out in an uncertain rush. “You saved my skin back there and I really appreciate it. I don’t know why I lashed out at you.” She bit at her lower lip, meeting his eyes briefly but turning her gaze back to the woods again, unable to hold the eye contact.

MacCready nudged his shoulder against hers. “Hey, I get it,” he said. “You got a lot to deal with. Most people would crack under that kinda pressure a lot more often than you do.” He smirked at her. “Next time, though, we’ll try and find you a punching bag to take it out on.”

Evelyn let out a breathy laugh at that. “That’s not a bad idea,” she admitted, grinning at him finally. His eyes twinkled at her, amused. “Even better if we can dress it up like Maxson.”

MacCready broke into laughter, and Evelyn laughed with him. She had to admit, MacCready was one of her favorite friends to travel with. He was a great shot and he shared her sense of humor, and she enjoyed the way they could share a comfortable silence. She leaned back to rest her weight on her palms once more, watching him recover from his laughter.

She hadn’t yet told MacCready the truth about Shaun. She wasn’t quite sure why- she’d told Nick, Cait, and Hancock within the first week of returning from the Institute- but despite how much she trusted MacCready, she had somehow lacked the courage to tell him. He deserved to know; she just needed to find the confidence for it.  

They sat together for a bit longer as the heat from the day faded and cooler air finally began to wrap around them. Evelyn tugged her hoodie up over her head to keep her ears warm, but she actually found that she liked the cold these days. The world seemed constantly hot no matter the weather due to the oppressive radiation that seeped out of every crack in the earth; the night granted a reprieve from some of it, at least.

Evelyn tugged her knees close to her chest, leaning against MacCready’s side and yawning. He started slightly, as if forgetting she’d been there- or perhaps he’d been lost in thought, staring out at the quiet trees.

“Maybe we should go out on an errand together again,” Evelyn suggested, grinning sleepily at him. “Just the two of us. It’s been awhile, and I could use some escape from… all of this.” She threw a hand back to gesture at Sanctuary. It wasn’t that she didn’t like the place, but she just really needed some time away to put her thoughts back in order.

MacCready glanced sidelong at her. “I don’t remember a time we ever travelled together when it was just us. You used to never go anywhere without Dogmeat,” he remarked, a grin tugging at his mouth.

“Oh, yeah,” Evelyn nodded, chuckling. “I guess you’re right.” She was silent again for a moment, grin fading. “But seriously. There’s not much to be done around here except more construction work and turret building. I could really use some time away, clear my head.”

“Hey, you’re still the boss,” MacCready pointed out. “Just say the word.”

Evelyn groaned loudly, pushing herself upright again and climbing to her feet. “Ugh, if you keep calling me your boss I’m definitely _not_ bringing you along,” she huffed at him, mouth twisting playfully. She extended both hands down to him. “Come on, I think you’ve done your fair share of guard duty tonight.”

MacCready looked like he was ready to argue, but she scowled at him and wiggled her fingers, so he caught hold of her hands and let her pull him upright. Not that it was exactly necessary- he stood a few inches taller than her, and she had to lean back on her heels to help him up. She collected her discarded combat boots but elected to carry them. Sanctuary was one of the few places she could walk around without shoes in relative safety; she missed the days when she could go barefoot outside and feel the grass.

They walked in silence towards their rooms. MacCready also had a room on the floor above the meeting space as well as Evelyn. Cait also had a permanent room there, and there was an extra guest room for any of Evelyn’s other close friends who came through town, but Preston had elected to sleep with the other Minutemen instead. It made Evelyn feel a touch guilty for having her own room, but having her own space to retreat to in Sanctuary was one of the few things that kept her sane.

A settler noticed their approach and hurried towards her, reminding her just why she liked having her own room so much: less disturbance. And yeah, she would totally admit that part of the reason she sat with MacCready so long tonight was to hide from all of the questions and requests she usually received when she sat around in the open here.

“General,” the settler greeted as he approached, coming to a stop before her. Evelyn bit back her sigh; they’d made it so close to the rooms. “We’ve been dividing up materials for the turrets, but we need some stuff to repair the water purifier as well. We’re running low on some things after sending out supplies to help the construction at Starlight Drive-In.”

“Put together a list for me of what you need,” Evelyn said. “I’ll see what I can salvage next time I’m out. And I’ll have Preston arrange for some caravans to bring more material in.”

“Thank you,” the settler said, looking grateful. “I’ll get list for you.” Evelyn just nodded her head, murmuring a quick goodnight to the man before her and MacCready made their escape and slipped into the building beside them.

“I don’t blame you for wanting to get back on the road,” MacCready commented as they made their way up the stairs, stepping quietly in case Cait was already asleep. Evelyn just nodded her head again, too tired to get into a conversation with her bed so close.

They went their separate ways to their rooms, and once her door was shut Evelyn promptly stripped off her jeans and flopped onto the bed, sighing. It had been a long day; she didn’t know what time it was, but it had to be close to midnight by now. The meeting with Maxson this morning already felt like it’d been so long ago.  

She snuggled deeper into her hoodie, closing her eyes with a sigh. Hopefully tomorrow was a better day.

* * *

 

Evelyn couldn’t decide if fighting raiders first thing in the morning was a step up from having to deal with Maxson.

She’d set out early that day with MacCready, striking south from Sanctuary just after breakfast. Raiders usually didn’t come around this part of the Commonwealth so much these days due to the strong foothold that the Minutemen maintained here, but these ones must have decided to test their luck. It was a mistake.

It was a small band, but they had scattered the moment MacCready downed one with a headshot. Raiders were usually quick to charge into the attack, so these ones must’ve been nervous from the start.

Evelyn pressed back against the tree she was using for cover, feeling the friction of rough bark against the spots on her arms that armor couldn’t cover. She clutched a rifle in her hands, steadying her breathing and waiting for a pause in the shooting to return fire. The raiders were using a rocky outcropping for cover downhill from them, and with all the bullets coming towards her she’d guess there were at least five or six raiders.

MacCready mirrored her position on another tree, reloading his gun before glancing up at her with a smirk. Evelyn grinned back. Maybe it was a little messed up to delight in mowing down raiders, but the adrenaline rush always gave her a bit of a thrill. Besides, these raiders deserved it; no doubt they were planning on targeting one of her settlements.

When the shooting slowed down for a moment, Evelyn and MacCready both took the chance to lean out and take their own shots. Three of the raiders went down, but only one was her kill. It had been eight months since she’d crawled out of that vault, and her long range _still_ sucked. She scowled to herself, glancing at MacCready. He was still smirking, and held up three fingers, then pointed at her and held up one. She mouthed the word _asshole_ to him, unable to help but puff a laugh. Just wait until they got up close, and then she’d level the score.

Bullets whistled past her head, one glancing off the tree near her shoulder in a spray of bark that made her squint. MacCready leaned out and took another shot, then wordlessly held up four fingers to Evelyn. She rolled her eyes at him.

Evelyn swung out from her cover, falling into a couch and levelling her rifle. It took two tries to take down the raider nearest to her; her first shot went wide. She pivoted, her third shot hitting the next raider in the chest and sending him sprawling. The shooting had stopped now, though. She listened, peering intently at the rocks, but saw nothing. MacCready crept to her side and they made their way down the hill as one, each covering a side in case any more raiders appeared.

One raider was still alive- he’d only taken a shot to the shoulder, and was scrambling for his pistol when Evelyn appeared. She finished him off with a shot to the head, then popped up to her feet, pointing at MacCready as he rounded the other side of the outcropping. “Ha! That counts as mine,” she declared.

He glanced down at the dead raider, frowning. “No way. That was my…” he trailed off, cocking his head and then leaning in to study something.

Evelyn eyed him. “What is it?”

“I’m not sure.” MacCready used his foot to push the raider onto his side, revealing his uninjured shoulder- and above it, two pairs of small puncture wounds with a blue-green tinge around the edges and trickles of drying blood down his back. “Weird,” he commented.

Evelyn crouched down to study the wounds. “Looks like something bit him recently,” she commented, tilting her head and glancing up at MacCready. “Maybe something irradiated?”

He grunted in agreement, raising his head to look around them. “I hope it’s not a bug. I hate those glowing bugs,” he muttered.

“Not any bug I know of,” she mused, straightening up. As far as she was aware, none of the bugs around here had mouths full of teeth, and those wounds looked an awful lot like tooth marks. “Let’s keep going, and stay sharp.”

“Aye aye, boss,” MacCready grinned when she shot him a withering look, following after her as they continued south.

She was supposed to check on Graygarden and make sure they had recovered from the raider attack a few days ago, as well as have them send some supplies to Sanctuary on the next caravan. But after Graygarden, she was going to drag MacCready to Diamond City, get a hot bowl of noodles, and give herself a day to relax a little bit. And after that- well, she hadn’t quite decided yet. She would have to wait and see where the road would take them.

They had fallen into their usual silence as they walked, keeping an eye out for any glowing bugs or other unfriendly things that might be lurking nearby as they skirted around Walden Pond. Despite some mongrel dogs sniffing around a Brahmin carcass, nothing else gave them any trouble, and Evelyn felt some of the tension leave her shoulders as Graygarden’s familiar greenhouse came into view. She hadn’t forgotten that there could be more prowlers wandering around the wasteland; being back in a calm, familiar place made her feel a bit better.

They arrived well after noon and ate a lunch of fresh, cooked veggies along with some of the radstag jerky MacCready had brought along. Evelyn left him behind to inspect and clean his gun while she spent some time circling the settlement with Supervisor White, listening to the robot drone on about the repairs they had made and the crops they were already replacing. The raiders had caused a bit of destruction when they attacked, and Evelyn was glad that the robots never needed to sleep; they were much quicker at fixing things up, and Graygarden was already getting back into shape. This place was a major food supplier for some of the nearby settlements, so it was important that it be kept up and running.

Evelyn was just wrapping up with the supervisors when she heard the distant, metallic thumping that could only mean power armor. She twisted to look at MacCready, who met her eyes and tilted his head towards the sound questioningly. She shrugged. This close to the police station, there was a good chance it was just a patrol of Brotherhood knights. But with the raider troubles around the area recently, it was better that they check it out just in case.

The pair made their way towards the source of the noise, drawing closer to the river until they could make out three shapes: two in power armor, and one in standard Brotherhood combat armor. Evelyn relaxed, lowering her rifle and nodding to MacCready. They straightened up and approached slowly; she didn’t want to startle the group and end up with a bullet through her skull.

They were still a little ways away from the group when they were noticed, guns snapping up to point in their direction. “Halt!” One of the soldiers in power armor shouted to them. “What’s your business here?”

“I’m a knight of the Brotherhood,” Evelyn called back, not bothering to stop. “Knight Evelyn Blake, and a friend.”

The guns were lowered warily, but the Brotherhood soldiers didn’t relax until she was close enough for them to recognize. “Knight Blake,” the same soldier said. “My apologies. We’ve been having more run-ins with raiders than usual in this area.”

“You too, huh?” Evelyn said, chewing at her lip. That wasn’t good news. She studied the three soldiers, but didn’t recognize any of them. “Is Danse- er, Paladin Danse at the station?”

“Negative,” the soldier said. “Took another scouting team north this morning, not expected back until tomorrow.”

Evelyn tried not to let the disappointment show on her face. She was hoping he and Haylen might have found something in those files from the Prydwen- and, if she was being honest, she just wanted to see him for the sake of it. She owed so much to Danse, but with all of the responsibilities taking up her time now they rarely ran into each other.

MacCready nudged at her shoulder, and she glanced at him quizzically. He was staring at the other soldier in power armor who had not yet spoken; she followed his gaze, confused for a moment until she noticed what he was looking at.

“What happened to you?” She asked, staring at the bandage plastered across the side of his neck, right where it met his shoulder. The soldier scowled at her question.

“Minor injury,” he stated stiffly. Evelyn held back a sigh. He was a touchy one.

“Something bit you,” she guessed. The soldier’s scowl suddenly become uncertain.

“We don’t know what happened,” the first soldier said. “Knight Puckett fell asleep on guard duty last night, woke up with that,” he said, shooting a disapproving look at his fellow soldier. Knight Puckett looked sheepish.

“At the police station?” Evelyn frowned. How could something have attacked someone there without alerting the other guards?

“No,” Puckett jumped in before the other soldier could answer for him. “Our team was out by the Weston Water Treatment Plant. Camped out,” he explained.

Evelyn crossed her arms. “Can I see it?”

Puckett looked startled. “What? The bite?” When Evelyn nodded, Puckett looked puzzled by her request but peeled back the bandage. Evelyn walked right up to him, catching ahold of his arm and tugging him lower so she could take a good look at it.

She spun around to face MacCready. “Same as the other one,” she told him. Now Puckett looked startled.

“Other one? What other one?” He asked quickly.

Evelyn described the wounds they found on the raider earlier, then pointed out the strange blue-green coloring to the other Brotherhood soldiers who had now become much more interested. Puckett just looked nervous, and rather uncomfortable with everyone sticking their faces in close to his neck.

Evelyn finally backed off, leaving the soldiers to talk amongst themselves and retreating to where MacCready waited several paces away, studying the scene in silence. “That’s strange, don’t you think?” She commented quietly to him. “Same bite in the same spot.”

MacCready nodded, eying her. “You want to go to the water treatment plant, don’t you?”

She chewed at her lip. “Yes,” she admitted. “The raider with the bite wound was coming from the south. He might’ve been bit around that area, too. It’s too close to the caravan routes; I don’t want anyone else to get bit.” She looked up at him. “I don’t like the look of those wounds, Mac.”

“Me neither,” he agreed with her. “The treatment plant isn’t all that far away. We should be able to check it out and still make it to Diamond City today.”

Evelyn nodded, looking lost in her thoughts. “We should get going, then.”

* * *

 

The trek to the water treatment plant was slower than normal. Evelyn wanted to make sure they didn’t miss anything; whatever creature had made those bites couldn’t have been very big, and if there was something that small wandering around here they could very easily pass it by without realizing.

It proved to be pointless; by the time they reached the plant, it was later in the day than planned, and Evelyn was damp with sweat from the heat of the sun beating down on them for the last few hours. Evelyn kicked debris aside absentmindedly as they walked slowly along the perimeter of the area, eyes scanning ahead to search for any signs of life, but nothing appeared.

After another hour of searching the plant and the area around it, Evelyn was starting to feel exhausted. The heat wasn’t helping.

MacCready trudged along behind her, obviously not having such a fun time either but not voicing his complaints. “Maybe whatever it is, it only comes out at night,” he suggested, pulling his hat off to run fingers through sweaty hair.

Evelyn did the same, peeling strands of hair away from her sticky skin and pulling her hair up into a loose bun on her head to keep it out of her face. “Could be,” she murmured. “Don’t worry, I don’t plan on hanging out here to see,” she added when MacCready started to look a little uncertain. She was feeling a little irritable that they’d found nothing after walking around in this humid, hot air all day, and it must have showed on her face.

“You look like you could definitely use those noodles now,” MacCready suggested. Evelyn nodded her head.

“Yeah, guess we should go,” she agreed. “It’ll be faster if we go south and cut across the river there.”

Evelyn led the way. The pair opted to follow the riverbank instead of the road; less chance they would run into more raiders, and the close proximity to the river let them feel some of the cool air drifting off of the water, even if it wasn’t much.

They had just about made it to the bridge when a flicker of motion caught Evelyn’s eye. She turned her head instinctively, watching as a dark shape careened rapidly towards them through the air, wings flapping. For a moment, she was just confused; was it a crow?

MacCready was quicker to react than she was, swinging his gun up as the thing came at him and firing off a shot. It missed.

Evelyn pulled her pistol from its holster at her hip, levelling it towards the creature as well- but faltered, because it was going straight for MacCready, and she didn’t want to risk shooting him instead.

MacCready ducked and side stepped, managing to dodge the creature when it swooped for his head. It curved back up into the air and wheeled around in a tight maneuver, uttering a squeaky hiss as it plunged back towards him. MacCready tensed, but instead of ducking, he swung his rifle at it, clubbing the little thing and knocking it to the ground, stunned.

Evelyn leaped after it, firing two quick shots from her pistol to make sure it didn’t get back up. The creature twitched, but lay still.

She exchanged a nervous, bewildered glance with MacCready. “What the heck?” He said. “Is _that_ the thing that’s been biting people?”

Evelyn approached the fuzzy dead thing, toeing it warily to make sure it was well and truly dead before using her foot to flip it over.

“It’s a bat,” she burst out, surprised. MacCready stepped up beside her to peer down at it. His eyes darted between her and the creature.

“Uh, you mean like… those things the guards in Diamond City carry?”

Evelyn frowned. “No. Bats were a pre-war animal,” she explained, kneeling down the study the body.

Her initial reaction was partially correct. The thing _was_ a bat- sort of. It had thin leathery wings with several finger-like projections extending from each limb and a compact body, but its face was blocky and its ears were simply holes in the side of the head. It had a large nose with wide nostrils as well as slits that ran down the sides of its neck; they almost looked like fish gills. A layer of dark, velvety fur covered the body, which was quite a difference from the usual mostly-bald wasteland beasts she had encountered. But most startling were its eyes- big and oily black, now overlaid with the glassy sheen of death.

Evelyn lurched back from it, and MacCready’s arms caught her around the waist before she could tumble backwards. She grabbed ahold of his jacket with both hands, clenching the material while she sucked down several breaths. Just like the eyes of the prowlers- the one in her dream, bearing down on her as that beast threw her on the floor-

“Hey, it’s okay, Eve, it’s alright,” MacCready was speaking soothingly to her, looping his arms loosely around her while she held on to him. She forced her heart rate to slow down, pushing even breaths-in and out, in and out. Slowly, she unclenched her fists, releasing MacCready’s jacket. She could tell he was a little uncertain about having her in such close proximity like this.

“I’m okay,” she managed after a moment, pulling back a step. MacCready released her immediately, lowering his arms and scooping up the rifle he’d dropped. He probably thought she was losing it; she hadn’t told anyone about that awful nightmare she’d had.

MacCready stepped around her and knelt down to pick up the pistol that had slipped from her hands, extending it out to her. She couldn’t quite meet his eyes, instead just accepting the gun with a murmur of thanks and sliding it back into the holster at her hip.

“Do you wanna talk about it?” MacCready asked after a moment, crouching down to study the bat creature instead of facing her as she spoke. Was it because he could see how uncomfortable she felt, or because he couldn’t quite meet her eyes, either?

Evelyn swallowed, flexing her fingers to ease the tightness after clenching at MacCready’s jacket so hard. “It’s the eyes,” she said quietly. “They’re the same as the prowlers.”

MacCready used the nose of his rifle to flip the creature onto its back. “Huh,” he commented. “I guess they do kinda look the same.”

“They _are_ the same,” Evelyn said, stepping up beside him but trying not to focus on those dark eyes. “That’s exactly how they looked. I remember.”

MacCready shot her a curious look, but didn’t disagree. After a beat of silence: “Should we take it with us?”

Evelyn chewed at her lip again. She had a bad habit of doing that. “I don’t think Diamond City security will appreciate us marching in with a carcass,” she said. “But maybe we could take it to Graygarden for now, until we decide what to do with it.”

MacCready wrinkled his nose, looking up at her. “Guess that means you want me to carry it, then?”

Normally she might’ve laughed at the face he was making, but she felt sick to her stomach after seeing those eyes. “We can find something to put it on,” she suggested.

MacCready sighed heavily, but to Evelyn’s surprise he just rolled up his sleeves and grabbed the thing by one of its small, hooked feet. “I’m gonna need to use some of that fancy smelling soap you have in Diamond City after this,” he commented, giving her a lopsided grin. Evelyn couldn’t quite muster the will to return it, but she appreciated his effort.

The walk back to Graygarden didn’t take long now that they weren’t stopping to check for clues so much, though they did scan the skies often to make sure more of the bat beasts didn’t show up to avenge their dead companion. By the time they’d dropped the creature off for some very disgruntled robots to watch over, the sun had dipped close to the horizon.

Evelyn stood at the edge of the settlement, facing in the direction of Diamond City as if she could see it through all those buildings. She wrapped her arms around herself. It was a lot of dangerous ground to cover between here and there.

MacCready appeared beside her, wiping his hands on his pants. “I never want to touch one of those things again,” he grunted.

Evelyn looked sideways at him, managing a slight smile for his sake. “Thank you, Mac,” she said, turning to gaze off into the distance again. She nibbled on her lip. “Maybe we should stay here for the night.”

MacCready didn’t reply immediately, and she looked back at him again to find him studying her. She shifted uncertainly under his gaze, but he smiled softly at her. “Hey, I said I was getting you to Diamond City tonight,” he said, stepping up beside her. “I’m not about to fail my job.”

Evelyn held his eyes for a long moment, and finally found herself smiling back a bit. “Wouldn’t want that,” she agreed. MacCready’s grin widened, and he unslung his rifle from his back, stepping ahead of her.

“Follow me, boss.”


End file.
